Fifth Year
by The anti-Fleur
Summary: Harry's fifth year, with a new love interest and some R/H. The chapter names are odd, I know. It starts a couple of months into the year.
1. Malfoy Is A Git

DISCLAIMER: Most of this belongs to J. K. Rowling. Andromeda, Emelus and Graìnne Green, Helena Pratt, Janet Greaves, Holly O'Donnell and Rebecca Ericson belong to me. 

Part of this story is going to be dealing with prejudice issues. So there's something I'd like to say before I start: 

One of the worst things that can possibly be is prejudice. Prejudiced people are hard to spot and even harder to change. They pollute the atmosphere around them, make innocent people feel as though they have done something wrong and, on occasion, are dangerous and violent. It is prejudice that brings about horrific catastrophes like the Holocaust. Who is to say that you are a lesser person because you look different, act different or earn a smaller amount than someone else? They are bullies and nothing more. Only by developing our own balanced and acceptant views can we stop these people. 

I know that didn't really have a lot to do with the story. But I felt it put an important point across, and it's something I feel strongly about. 

'I don't want to dump you,' she said, but she did, or she wouldn't have been saying it. 'I want us to break up – mutually.' 

'Fine,' said Harry, feeling slightly hostile. It wasn't as though he was upset – he just thought that Cho could have been a bit more sensitive. 

'I'm sorry, Harry,' she said. She was obviously waiting. 

'Do you still want to be friends?' he asked obligingly. She beamed. 

'I'd love to.' 

'You're a lovely girl, Cho.' It was true. 'I'm sorry we weren't right for each other. I hope you find someone who is.' 

'I'll see you around.' She got up and walked back to the Ravenclaw table, and he returned to sit with his house. 

He was surprised at how easy it had been. Although nothing much would change. For a while there had been nothing between them. _I suppose, _he thought, _when you both know it's the right thing and the only thing to do, it doesn't hurt_. Not that he'd know. Cho had been his first girlfriend. 

But, for a long time, she hadn't been the first on his mind. Cho gave a last friendly glance towards Harry, but it wasn't the Ravenclaw table he was looking towards. 

The object of Harry's affection was oblivious, and not just to him. Andromeda Green was daydreaming. Though not conventionally pretty, her almost-black hair, piercing blue eyes and creamy pale skin – Irish colouring inherited from her mother – gave her a certain attractiveness. 

She could hear Draco Malfoy talking inanely somewhere down the Slytherin table. She hated people like Draco – intolerant, bullying, ignorant people. She thought about what she'd love to tell him. _You're a git, Malfoy. _

Andromeda was pulled roughly back down to earth by the thud of a fork falling onto the tabletop. Looking to her right, she saw a great deal of people staring at her. 'Oh no,' she said, dismayed. 'I said that out loud, didn't I?' She had an unhelpful habit of saying things that she had only intended to think. 

Draco was looking at her intently, the familiar dots of red slowly appearing on his white cheeks. 'What did you say?' 

Andromeda, though a daydreamer, was strong and stubborn, and decided to see what Malfoy would say to her. 'I called you a git.' 

'Why did you call me that, Mudblood?' 

A lot of people would have taken that from Malfoy, but not the daughter of Emelus and Graìnne Green. She wouldn't deliberately have started an argument with Malfoy, but she wasn't about to go back on what she thought either. 

'Precisely the reason you said that – it's true.' 

His cheeks definitely had colour now. 'And just what gives you the right to call me that?' 

'Do we have to go through that again? You are a bigoted, self-centred, sad little boy and I don't like you. Now shut up.' 

Malfoy was lost for words. 'You're not fit to be a Slytherin, you pathetic fool,' he said after a while. The words cut into the heavy silence. 

Before getting up and leaving, trying to maintain her dignity, Andromeda only replied in her head. _I never wanted to be_. 

'Only two more pieces of parchment to go,' said Hermione cheerfully, finishing a sentence of Potions theory with a triumphant flourish of her quill. Ron groaned. 

'Lucky you. I've still got six. I've barely started.' He gazed despondently at the one rather pathetic and ink-blotched sheet in front of him. 

'Oh _no_,' said Harry, slamming a book down in front of him. 

'What's wrong?' asked Ron and Hermione simultaneously. 

'This book hasn't got the information I wanted.' Harry was even further behind, and hadn't quite finished a chart of sun signs for Divination. 

'Weird. It had plenty for me,' said Ron. However, they had different signs, so for once they couldn't produce practically identical pieces. 

'I'll go down to the library and get out that book I had last week – _Foreseeing and Foretelling_ or something.' Harry rose, exasperated, and left the common room. 

As soon as he arrived in the library, Harry heard a peculiar sound, a sort of quick gasping and hiccuping. He explored the dense, almost deserted rows of books to find the source. Eventually he almost tripped over it. Andromeda Green was sitting against a shelf, facing the wall. She was crying. 

Harry blushed furiously, even though she hadn't seen him yet. Of all the people it could have been! 'Are you all right?' _Of course she isn't, you prat_. 

She whirled around, her normally pale face flushed and blotchy. 'Oh, I'm OK,' she said, hurriedly wiping her face with the sleeve of her robes. Harry felt a sudden rush of compassion and the urge to give her a hug. 'Just – well, you know Draco Malfoy.' He certainly did. 'He was being his usual self. I know how he is to you sometimes, I've heard him. I know I shouldn't let him get to me, but well, I've always been a bit over-emotional. And I've always talked too much, too – sorry, I'm really rambling.' 

'No you aren't,' said Harry quickly, aware that his face rivalled Ron's hair. 'Look, if he's really bothering you – I don't mind staying with you for a while.' 

'Are you sure?' Andromeda asked. Harry noted that she looked very grateful, and said, 'Of course.' What he didn't say was _result!_

Harry Potter was really nice, thought Andromeda. Neither Madam Pince nor any of the (admittedly few) students perusing the racks of books had thought to check that she was all right. 

He lowered himself onto the floor beside her. 'I came to get a book for Divination,' he explained. 'I suppose you know what Trelawney's like.' 

'What, all gloom and doom?' 

'Yeah. She has a special penchant for predicting my death.' Andromeda chuckled – Professor Trelawney had told her she was due to be attacked by the giant squid and fall to her death through a trick staircase, among other things. 'Anyway, our homework is on sun signs – and they tend to be depressingly positive. So the book I already had didn't have the right stuff in it.' 

'We haven't gone onto those yet,' Andromeda offered, pleased at how well they were getting on. 'We're still way back on hieroglyphics and their hidden doom-filled meanings.'

'I was glad to finish those,' Harry said. Andromeda noted that a tuft of hair was sticking up on the side of his head, and suppressed a giggle. That was really endearing. 

'Don't blame you,' Andromeda replied, and then the conversation ran out. She racked her brains to come up with something. 'So… how do you get on with the other Gryffindors?' 

'Oh, they're great,' Harry replied enthusiastically, glad to get back to talking. 'Do you know Ron and Hermione? They're my best friends, and the other Weasleys are great too. There's no one I don't get on with.' 

'You're lucky,' said Andromeda wistfully. 'I hate being in Slytherin.' 

'Yeah,' Harry pondered. 'I never would have thought you'd be a Slytherin. Are they all as bad as Malfoy?' 

'Not all. There are a few girls in the sixth and seventh years that are OK, I usually hang around with them – and a group of second years, three boys and two girls… but other than that, they're all pretty rotten. Even my friends aren't all that great. Most Slytherins have a mean streak in them. I suppose they're the worst in the school.' 

'Not all of them,' Harry was quick to correct her, and Andromeda noticed that his earlier blushing had returned. 'You seem fine to me.' 

__

That was much too forward, thought Harry furiously. _She'll think you're an idiot now_. But, on the contrary, she was smiling pleasantly. 'Thank you.'

'So you don't have a great time of it then?' 

'Definitely not.' Harry felt very sympathetic. 

'When I used to live with the muggles – you know – ' She nodded. 'Well, I went to a muggle school, and everyone pretty much hated me there. It's fair to say I really didn't fit in. So I – well, I – er – I know what it's like.' 

Andromeda nodded, still smiling. But then an expression of horror crossed her face, and she leapt up. 'I'll see you later!' And she was gone. 

Harry got up and looked around. Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode and the other two fifth-year Slytherin girls had entered. He sighed. 

Rushing back to the dungeon common room before Pansy and her gang could notice she'd been crying, Andromeda looked downwards and tried to make out she was yawning as she entered. 'Where have you been?' demanded a loud voice immediately. It was Helena Pratt, the leader of Andromeda's sort-of friends – the group of sixth- and seventh-year girls she'd told Harry about. 'After you mouthed off at Malfoy, you just vanished. What happened?' 

Andromeda seated herself with Helena and the others, Janet Greaves, Holly O'Donnell and Rebecca Ericson. 'Nothing much – just went to the library. Divination homework,' she said, recalling Harry's mission. 

'Didn't find anything?' 

'What makes you say that?' Andromeda was suspicious. 

'Well, you haven't brought any books down.' 

'Oh, no. The one I needed was checked out.' She hoped that sounded feasible, but she didn't have to worry – she'd always been a good liar. To her relief, the subject was changed to a seventh-year Ravenclaw boy she didn't know, and she was able to relax a bit. Thankfully, Malfoy was nowhere in sight. 

Rushing back to the Gryffindor common room before anyone had time to notice his red face, Harry smoothed down his hair and felt a large tuft on the right side. _Oh no… I bet she noticed that_. 'Where have you been?' demanded Ron almost immediately. 

'The library,' Harry said quickly. 

'Didn't find anything?' 

'What makes you say that?' Harry was suspicious. 

'Well, you haven't got that book you needed.'

'Oh, no. The one I wanted was checked out.' He could feel the colour returning to his face, but hopefully Ron hadn't noticed it. To his relief, the subject was changed to an upcoming small Arithmancy test of Hermione's, and he was able to relax a bit. Thankfully, his face felt normal temperature again.

I know that a lot of this didn't make very much sense. I started it a bit into the fifth year because a) I didn't want to do all the before-they-get-to-Hogwarts business and b) I needed to have Harry and Cho break up after a couple of months. And as for Voldemort - I know everyone would be a lot more worried and everything, but it's artistic licence, OK? I just didn't want to bring him into it yet. THIS WILL CONTINUE!


	2. I Wish I'd Been A Gryffindor

Someone commented on my title. Unoriginal I know, but I really couldn't think of anything, this is going to be a very long story and I haven't really planned it so I don't know what it should be called… and now I am rambling. Remind you of anyone? 

My characters belong to me. J. K. Rowling's characters belong to her. Enjoy! 

Andromeda didn't encounter Harry again until fifth-year Potions two days later. Snape appeared to be in a particularly unpleasant mood, and was taking it out not just on the Gryffindors, but even slightly on his own house. 

'I will be putting you into Gryffindor/Slytherin pairs for today's lesson,' he snarled sadistically. 'We will be working on basic Truth Potions. Now, Draco Malfoy, you can work with… Grace Ramsbottom.' Even this mood hadn't brought Snape to be unkind to his favourite student, and he had placed Malfoy with a Gryffindor girl who was painfully shy and wouldn't give him any trouble. 'Pansy Parkinson – Ron Weasley.' Ron groaned audibly. 'Vincent Crabbe – Hermione Granger.' Hermione looked horror-struck. As well as being a mean thug, Crabbe was about as intelligent as a Flobberworm. 'Andromeda Green…' His eyes roved around the room for a worthy candidate. 'Harry Potter.' 

Andromeda's eyes widened. She glanced at Harry, who was staring red-faced back. Well, at least she knew Harry wouldn't be horrible to her because of her house. 

When Snape had finished putting them into mostly completely incompatible pairs, he instructed them to move to sit with their partners. Malfoy and Grace sat close to Ron and Pansy. Ron looked trapped between two particularly nasty Slytherins. 

Harry came over to sit next to Andromeda. He had already opened his Potions kit and was carrying it rather awkwardly, trying to keep all of the bits in. Andromeda smiled. 

'Maybe you should have closed that before you got up.' 

__

Oh no, thought Harry. _I look like such a fool now._ And he was sure she had smirked. Maybe she was just another Slytherin. 

He sat down nonetheless, and proceeded to remove the ingredients he'd need from the small black case. Andromeda did the same. 'I've forgotten my book,' admitted Harry quietly. 'Can we use yours? Otherwise Snape'll have my head.' 

Andromeda looked horrified. 'Oh no! I've forgotten mine too!' 

To their mutual dismay, Snape chose that very moment to come sweeping over to their desk. 'What's the matter?' he snapped. 'Get your books out immediately. How do you expect to do any work without them?'

'Professor Snape, me and Harry have both forgotten our textbooks today.' Andromeda flashed what she hoped was a winning smile, but Snape didn't look impressed. 

'Five points from Gryffindor, Potter, and you can both have a detention. Down here at ten o'clock tomorrow night. It's unacceptable. You're in your fifth year, and you should be able to cope with bringing the right equipment by now.' 

Harry groaned as soon as Snape was out of earshot. 'I was counting on finishing my Divination tomorrow night,' he complained. 'But it could be worse – it could have been Malfoy that forgot his book instead of you.' 

Both Gryffindors and Slytherins packed up their equipment long before the end of the lesson – except for Harry and Andromeda, who had been working intently. Leaving the dungeons, Ron and Hermione were both complaining bitterly about their Potions partners. 

'I can't believe Snape put me with _her_. Actually, I can. I wouldn't have put it past Snape to make an exception to the boy-girl rule and make me work with Malfoy.' 

'Poor Grace,' said Hermione, biting her lip. 'She looked almost in tears by the end of the lesson. She's so quiet, she'll never stand up to Malfoy. And I was with Crabbe! He's so thick, I'm surprised he managed to make it to the fifth year. He must have failed every exam yet.' 

'What about that girl you were with, Harry?' Ron asked. 'Andromeda?' 

'Oh, she's OK,' said Harry quickly. 

Ron snorted. 'OK? A Slytherin? Well, if you say so. But I wouldn't be surprised if she's cursed you. In a few minutes you'll burst into fur or feathers or something. Slytherins. They're all the same.' 

Andromeda met up with her second-year friends as soon as there was a break. She hadn't spoken to them for a while. Sometimes Helena and the others made fun of her for hanging around with people three years younger than her, but Andromeda wasn't usually bothered about what other people thought. 

'How did Potions go?' Vivian Thomas asked sympathetically. He was a tall, skinny boy and the sort of ringleader of that group. 'We heard Malfoy moaning about being put with a Gryffindor girl. Were they as bad to you?' 

The thing that Andromeda particularly disliked about the younger Slytherins was that Malfoy was a sort of idol to them. Though they almost always disapproved of his methods, they all admired his power and tended to take his word as gospel. 'Malfoy isn't always right, you know,' she snapped. 

Vivian looked taken aback. 'You like the Gryffindors, then?' 

'Not all of them,' Andromeda was quick to assert, and then kicked herself. _Since when did it matter to you if people thought you were weird? _'I was working with Harry Potter, and he seems OK.' _More than OK…_

'Well, if you say so,' said Drusilla Simpson-Clarke, a very upper-class blonde girl who, Andromeda suspected, had a bit of a crush on Malfoy. 'But in my opinion, those Gryffindors – they're all the same.' 

Harry and Andromeda met for the Potions detention ten minutes early, to be sure of escaping Snape's wrath. Typically, Snape was five minutes late. 

Not seeming to be in quite as bad a mood as he had for the lesson, Snape quickly instructed them to begin cleaning out the storage boxes he set in front of them. Harry noted dismally that there were at least ten, all filled to overflowing with old Potions ingredients, some going mouldy. But he knew better than to express dismay at their task. 

The pair got to work, and Snape went off somewhere. They were silent for a few minutes, until Harry gained the courage to ask, 'How are you now?' 

'As opposed to the other night, I'm perfect.' She sighed. 'But there's always the same problem – I wish I wasn't in Slytherin. I feel so lonely sometimes. I have people I hang around with, but I don't have any _friends_. There's not a single Slytherin I'd be proud to have as a friend.' 

'It must be really rough.' 

'I wish I'd been a Gryffindor!' The outburst repercussed against the stone walls until the echoes faded to silence. 

__

So do I, thought Harry. 'I don't know why you weren't,' he said out loud. 'I mean, you could have at least been a Ravenclaw or something. Being so unhappy there must mean that you don't really belong. When I first came to the school…' he hesitated. He'd never even told Ron or Hermione this before. 'The Sorting Hat thought about putting me there, too.' 

But Andromeda didn't look shocked. Not even surprised. 'But it didn't,' she sighed. 

'Look, Andromeda… if you ever need to talk, or just to get away from Malfoy and his lot… well, you're welcome to come to the Gryffindor common room. I'm there most of the time.' And he told her the password. 

Now she did look stunned. 'You're not – you weren't supposed to tell me that.' 

'It doesn't matter,' replied Harry. He was staring right into her eyes. They were the brightest shade of blue he'd ever seen, a deep, fiery electric blue. And she was staring right back. 

Andromeda was staring right into his eyes. They were the brightest shade of green she'd ever seen, a deep, clear grassy green. And he was staring right back. 

Harry leaned forward, his mind clear of everything but Andromeda's eyes. Andromeda was a galaxy, wasn't it? Her eyes sparkled with tiny flecks of silver, just like the sky at night. It was an appropriate name. 

Suddenly the door swung open and Snape stormed in. Harry and Andromeda swung guiltily apart, and both started gabbling about the incomplete set of dragonfly parts that lay before them. However, Snape appeared not to have noticed anything strange, and said, 'It's all right, you can go now. Dumbledore says you've got to be fit for the Quidditch match tomorrow, Potter, though why games come before discipline I don't know… and it's hardly fair that Miss Green has to complete her punishment when you don't. So go away.' 

They did so, getting stuck in the thin doorway and having to do an awkward little sort of dance before they could both get out. They returned to their common rooms without a word to each other. 

Since that afternoon's practice, Harry had completely forgotten about the Quidditch match. They were playing against Ravenclaw, who were worthy opponents, but they'd beaten Hufflepuff (who had, in all fairness, been testing out a new Seeker, Neil Stokestone) by a very large amount, and if the worst came to the worst they could afford to lose this match. Harry decided that the best he could do for the team was to get a good night's sleep. But it wasn't as easy as it sounded. Harry had a lot on his mind.


	3. Formidable Opponents

Everyone belongs to JK Rowling except for Andromeda, her friends and Edward Elms. If I've left anyone out you'll know. 

Harry woke early from a strangely dreamless sleep. It was five o'clock, but he knew without doubt that he wouldn't sleep again, so he got up and dressed. The match didn't kick off until nine, so he went over his Divination homework again. He was alone in the common room and had finally located the right book, so to his delight, it was soon finished. But that meant that he had nothing to do. 

He sat in the common room thinking for a while, then wandered aimlessly around it. Until seven, he couldn't go out, and by then he'd be able to go out and get in some Quidditch practise anyway. 

Just then, the door to the fifth-year boys' dormitory swung open again and Ron emerged. 'What are you doing up, Harry?' he asked. 

'Couldn't sleep,' Harry replied abruptly. 

'Quidditch nerves?' 

'Yeah,' said Harry, glad of an excuse. 

'Yeah right.' 

Harry was taken aback. 'What?' 

'There's been something bothering you for ages, and it isn't Quidditch. You've been really – _distant_. What's going on? Is it Cho?' 

'No! No, I haven't thought about her for _days_.' 

'Well, what is it then?' Ron was impatient. 'You can tell me, Harry. You don't get up at five in the morning for nothing.' 

'Well, you got up too.' 

'You woke me up! And you haven't answered the question.' 

Harry wished he'd said it was Cho. He didn't quite know what to tell Ron. He couldn't tell him about Andromeda, could he? 'Just the Slytherins. They've been bothering me.' 

'More than usual?' Ron sounded sceptical. 

Harry remembered something he'd told Andromeda only the other day. Why shouldn't he tell it to Ron? They were best friends, after all. 'When I put on the Sorting Hat, it thought about putting me in Slytherin.'

Ron was silent for a moment. 'But it didn't. That's the important thing.' 

'I know. And Dumbledore told me later that it was probably because Voldemort –' Ron winced – 'put some of his powers into me when he tried to kill me. When he killed my parents. But that's not it. Couldn't the Sorting Hat make a mistake? Couldn't there be people that belong in Gryffindor, but aren't? And wouldn't they be really lonely, in Slytherin or something? Everyone would hate them, just because of where they were put. Through no fault of their own. It just isn't fair.' 

Ron looked very taken aback. 'I don't know what's going on, Harry. Obviously there's something, but I can't figure it out. I don't know why you can't tell me. I'm your best friend. I'm going back to bed.' And he went back up to the Gryffindor tower, rather more quickly than was necessary. 

Harry had a lot more to think about. Could he tell Ron about Andromeda? Would Ron think he was stupid? Why did it matter so much? If Andromeda had been in any other house, it would have so much easier. It was just prejudice, he decided. Bigotry. 

Before he knew it, seven o'clock came and went. People were milling around the room, Ron and Hermione talking in hushed whispers and not approaching Harry. Hermione hadn't even said good morning when Angelina Johnson, that year's Quidditch captain, came over to Harry. 

'You'd better get a move on,' she hissed. 'Pre-match warm-up starts in ten minutes.' 

Harry changed into his Quidditch robes – he wasn't sure why he hadn't put them on in the first place – and rushed down to the hall. Not many people were there yet, so he ate a piece of toast, almost without being aware he was doing it. Then into the grounds, where everyone except the Weasley twins had already assembled. 

Angelina, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and their new Keeper, a fourth-year called Edward Elms, were already in the air. The girls were throwing the Quaffle to one another and Edward was trying to keep it from scoring in the hoops. He spotted Harry first. 'Hi, Harry,' he called, waving. Distracted for a moment, he overlooked the impending Quaffle and it sped through a hoop after a powerful shot from Alicia. 'Seen Fred and George?' he enquired, zipping around the posts to catch the red wooden ball. 

'Not yet,' replied Harry. 'Maybe they've slept in.' 

'Well, we can find out,' Edward said, pointing downwards. Harry looked behind him. Colin Creevey was approaching, his younger brother Dennis in tow. 'Send them to get them, will you?' he asked, diving to save a difficult diagonal shot by Katie. 

'Hi, Colin, hi, Dennis' said Harry, glad for once to have a reason to get rid of the Creeveys. 'Would you two go and find Fred and George? They're late, and we need a bit of practise before the match.'

'Sure, Harry,' said Dennis eagerly, and they sped off again. Harry shook his head and, mounting his Firebolt, kicked off to join the others. 

People were assembling in the stands already as Harry practised the Wronski Feint. It was a move he was eager to perfect. Dives were his speciality, and if he could pull this one off it would be nothing short of spectacular. He saw Andromeda and her group of older Slytherin girls climbing up the stands, however, and collided awkwardly with the ground. 

'OK, Harry?' asked Fred, while George cackled behind him. _They had to turn up right now, didn't they_, thought Harry furiously. 

'I'm fine, thanks,' he answered, brushing off his robes and getting back on the Firebolt. 'Where have you two been?' 

'Aha, that would be telling,' George said with an enigmatic smile. Harry decided not to interrogate further – it never worked with Fred and George – and rose rapidly into the air again. 

The practice, from then on, went very well. In fact, by the time it finished, Harry wished it could start again, because his usual pre-Quidditch nerves had finally set in. But the match was starting in ten minutes, and the Gryffindor team had to assemble. 

'We have a big margin after beating Hufflepuff,' said Angelina, and the whole team beamed at Harry. He had caught the Snitch at exactly the right moment – Gryffindor had been seventy points ahead, a larger than average advantage. 'But wouldn't it be nice to win this too? Of course, what we all want is to beat Slytherin –' smirks from the team – 'but we have to get this over with first. Their Seeker, Chang, is stronger than ever this year, and they beat Slytherin by a fair amount. They're formidable opponents and we have to take them seriously.' Angelina went on to outline the possible tactics they could use, and to tell Harry to try and do as well as he had last match. Then it was time, and they walked out onto the pitch. 

Up in the stands, Andromeda was sitting with Helena, Janet, Holly and Rebecca. They, of course, were supporting Ravenclaw – anything but Gryffindor was Slytherin's motto. Andromeda didn't want to make herself conspicuous by cheering for Gryffindor – _I never used to care so much_, she thought – but on the other hand, she had no ties with Ravenclaw. She would just look neutral, she hoped. 

The game kicked off, and after only about ten seconds, Harry Potter was speeding spectacularly towards the ground. _Not the Snitch already, surely_, thought Andromeda, but at the last second he pulled upwards and Cho Chang, who had been in hot pursuit, sped off at a clumsy angle, narrowly avoiding hitting the ground. It was a feint, Andromeda realised; a distraction. 

Harry, meanwhile, was feeling elated. He'd finally pulled off an immaculate Wronski Feint! It couldn't rival Viktor Krum's magnificent efforts yet, of course, but it was a start, and it had worked. Cho rose upwards behind him, at least a ten-second delay holding her back. 'That was great!' she beamed. 

'Thanks!' Harry was pleased. It had been a very effective move. 

Andromeda was looking intently at the pretty girl next to Harry. They were exchanging words, she was sure, and both were grinning. Come to think of it, she'd seen them together quite often. For some reason she felt disappointed. It hadn't occurred to her that Harry might have a girlfriend. Cho Chang was very small, slight in build and height, with chin-length, shiny black hair. She was Oriental, perhaps Chinese, with wide almond-shaped eyes and creamy skin. Much better-looking than Andromeda. 

It was cold on the Quidditch pitch in the midst of the chill November air, even when you were zooming about on a broom. Harry shivered, having had little to do for most of the game so far. There was no sign of the Snitch, and Ravenclaw had scored twice. As he watched, Gryffindor got one back through a particularly smooth move from Angelina. She swooped by the posts, tossing the Quaffle effortlessly through the middle post. The crowd cheered. 

Before long Gryffindor were leading. Edward Elms had made several agile saves, and Katie and Alicia had both scored a couple. Even the Bludgers were pretty inactive today, and Fred and George didn't have a lot of work to do. 

It was almost an hour later when Harry caught sight of an unmistakable hint of gold. The Snitch! He flew on a narrow angle off to the side and slightly downwards. It wasn't moving. Surely he'd catch it now! Harry was already celebrating when something black and rather large came thundering down towards him. It was a Bludger. He looked up in panic… Fred and George were watching play… he shouted at them and they swept down, but it was very near and he had no defence… he reached down, stretching towards the tiny ball…

Andromeda's hands were over her mouth. That Bludger was much too close to Harry – he was going to be hit! And it looked like he'd seen the Snitch, too. Cho Chang was to his right, not daring to come closer because of the dangerous Bludger. Suddenly Harry curved off to the side and the Bludger hit the ground with a frightening thud. Andromeda gasped, and her friends looked at her curiously. He had caught the Snitch! 

Harry couldn't quite see what was going on because the rest of the team had surrounded him in a big hug. He could hear cheering, though. He didn't quite remember actually making contact with the Snitch, just feeling it in his hand and getting out of the Bludger's way. It had had a lot of force behind it, Harry thought, remembering how it had kept going to the ground. But it hadn't hit him, and that was the important thing.

An abrupt ending, I know. Just keep reading. PLEASE…


	4. So That's What Was Going To Happen

Andromeda, her friends and the others I made up are mine. Everyone else is JK Rowling's. This disclaimer is mine, though I wish it wasn't. My annoyance at constant disclaimer-writing is also mine. 

It was Sunday evening, the Quidditch match having taken place on Saturday. Harry had had rather more to think about than usual for the past few days. He had come to a decision. 

When he, Ron and Hermione had finished eating dinner, Harry turned off before they arrived at the common room. He slipped away, he hoped, before Ron and Hermione could notice and ask where he was going. He had a feeling he knew where Andromeda might be. 

The library was almost empty again. A few people were scattered around. He couldn't see Andromeda, but he walked around a couple of stacks of books and found her sitting at the base of one, reading. 'Hello,' he said. 

She jumped and looked up. 'What are you doing here?' she asked, startled. 

'Charming,' smiled Harry. 

'No, I – I didn't mean it like that – I just haven't seen you for a while, that's all.' 

'I told you you could come to the Gryffindor common room whenever you liked. So how come you're still sitting here?' 

'I might just like it here,' Andromeda replied defensively. 

'Do you?' 

'No,' she admitted. 'It's rubbish.' 

Harry laughed. Then suddenly he was serious again. They had to discuss what had happened – or, rather, almost happened. 'What was going on in Snape's detention?' 

'Why would anything have been going on?' 

'It didn't feel like a punishment, somehow.'

'What did it feel like?' 

'I'm not sure.' Harry thought for a moment. 'I don't think it's happened to me before.' 

'No,' mused Andromeda. 'Nor me.' 

He leaned over, much as he had done in the Potions dungeon, but this time they didn't waste time. He kissed her. 

'So that's what was going to happen.' She looked troubled. 

'Andromeda, at the risk of sounding very cheesy indeed, I really like you. In fact, I think that I may very abruptly be falling in love with you.' He was shocked. He'd never been so blunt before. 'But if you don't like me too, there's not much point me being here, so you might as well just tell me…' 

'Harry, we both know it can't happen.' She looked even more upset. 

'You haven't answered the question.' 

'And what about Cho?' 

'_Cho_? We split up ages ago. And we should have long before that. We haven't been anything more than friends for a long time.' 

Andromeda didn't know what to say. She would have liked to tell Harry that she was falling in love with him, too... that she'd never met anyone as nice and as good as him… but he was a Gryffindor, and she was a Slytherin, and no one would accept it. It was just wrong, and it was easier to lie than to go into the whole complicated, unfair truth. 'No, Harry. I'm sorry, I just don't feel that way.' She said it curtly and coldly. 

He stood up, flushing. 'Well, all right. As long as I know.' And then he was gone. 

Andromeda waited until she was sure no one was around before folding her hands over her face and sobbing. 

Harry walked numbly into the common room. Ron and Hermione were sitting there, and stared at him as he passed. But he didn't stop or even greet them. He kept going into the boys' dormitory, sunk onto his bed and closed his eyes. 

Less than a minute later, the door creaked and bashed roughly against the wall. Harry turned to see Ron. Before he could say anything, Ron started speaking. 'Like I said before, I don't have a clue what's going on with you, but it's obviously bothering you and I want to know. Not telling anyone isn't going to help and after your outburst last night I know that it's not just Snape's latest essay assignment. So I'm going to wait here, Harry, and I'm not leaving until you…' 

'I'm in love with Andromeda Green.' There, he'd said it. 

Ron looked as though someone had just smacked him in the face. 'You're in love with _Andromeda Green_?' 

'Yes. Now if you're going to gawp at me, go away. If you want to hear it, stay here, because believe me there's a lot to be told.' 

Ron, to his credit, sat down on the floor. 'She's in Slytherin, Harry.'

'I know that, Ron.' Despite how he felt at that moment, he had the urge to laugh. 

'And you're in Gryffindor.' 

'I know that as well.' 

'What are you going to do?' 

'Not much I can do. I asked her if she liked me, and she said no. That's it, I suppose. But it doesn't stop me, does it?' 

'No,' Ron replied heavily. 'No, it doesn't.' 

In the Slytherin dungeon, Helena Pratt was taken aback to see Andromeda storm past without acknowledging her and head for the girls' dormitory. There was something wrong, that much was obvious; Andromeda usually said exactly what was on her mind. So she got up and followed. 

'What's the matter?' she asked, startled, when Andromeda turned from her bed to see who had come in and Helena saw the tears streaking her pale face. 'There's been something bothering you for ages, hasn't there, An, and I don't know what it is but it's not like you to keep it to yourself. So tell me what it is, or I'm not…' 

'I'm in love with Harry Potter.' 

Helena looked as though a rock had fallen on her head. 'You're in love with… _Harry Potter_?' 

'Yes.' 

'But…' Helena was spluttering. 'How can you be? You're a Slytherin, and he's the biggest Gryffindor ever! It can't work, Andromeda!' 

'I know that,' said Andromeda, wiping her eyes. 'That's why I told him I didn't feel the same.' 

'So he likes you too?' 

'That's what he said.' 

Helena sat heavily on an ebony chair near Andromeda's bed. 'Andromeda, I know you don't like any of us Slytherins very much…' 

'That's not true!' 

'Yes it is. We aren't right for you, and everyone knows it. You should have been in Gryffindor, and I don't mean that as an insult. But if you start something with Potter, everyone's going to see it as the same thing – a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. Oh, An, couldn't you have fallen for a Ravenclaw?' 

'I think you missed something, Helena,' Andromeda said calmly. 'I told him I don't love him. Nothing is going to happen.' 

'Yeah,' snorted Helena. 'And I'm having a secret affair with Professor Flitwick.' (Andromeda giggled at this absurd claim.) 'Who has ever stopped Andromeda Green acting on her feelings? If you're not going to do anything about this, An, you must be very stupid. It can only make you happy. And as much as I think it's odd, you have to go for it. And if you won't…' she paused for dramatic effect. 'I'll tell Potter myself.' 

'You wouldn't,' Andromeda gasped. Surely she wouldn't. Would she?

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Unfinished Business

My characters are mine. J. K. Rowling's characters are hers. 

It was lunchtime and Andromeda was apprehensive. Would Helena dare to go and tell Harry what Andromeda had told her? She didn't know if she wanted her to or not. Another thing – she was contemplating whether to take Harry's advice and pay Dumbledore a visit. It might be useful – or it might not. She decided to try. 

Dumbledore's office was, unlike other unfamiliar rooms in the castle, very easy to locate. She wondered why. Luckily, Professor McGonagall was leaving at that moment and they almost collided. McGonagall looked worried and nervy, but Andromeda, all the same, said, 'Could I see Professor Dumbledore?' 

For a moment, McGonagall didn't reply, but then she turned sharply and led Andromeda to a stone gargoyle set into the wall. 'Cockroach cluster,' she said. Nothing happened. 'Oh… of course… that was last year…' She thought for a moment, then tried again. 'Cauldron cakes.' The gargoyle leapt to the side, and McGonagall directed Andromeda. Then she left abruptly, and Andromeda ascended on the moving spiral staircase, unknown to her but familiar to Harry. 

Before long she arrived before a shiny wooden door, polished to the point of reflection, and rapped on the brass door-knocker set into it. Waiting for a moment, she thought that the headmaster must be elsewhere, but then it swung open and she found herself looking into the face of a commanding, formidable man. 

Unlike Harry, Andromeda had barely spoken to Dumbledore during her time at Hogwarts. She was both intimidated and awed by him. She could see why Voldemort had been afraid of him – he was the complete opposite of everything the Dark Lord was, but for the incredible power that they shared. 

'Andromeda Green?' he said, and in a moment, his friendly manner brushed away her fear. 'What can I do for you?' 

'Er – there's something that's been bothering me, and someone told me to talk to you about it. That is, if you're not too busy, it's not all that important…' 

'I have no pressing engagements at this specific moment,' he said. 'Come in, Miss Green.' 

She entered the office, which was large and spectacularly decorated with all manner of interesting equipment lining the walls and shelves. But she was not here to look around. When Professor Dumbledore sat behind his desk, she sat too, in a broad leather armchair before the table. 

'I'm in Slytherin,' she said, and he nodded. 'But I'm really not sure I should be. I mean, it seems like all the worst people in the school come from there. You-Know-Who came from there. My father was in Gryffindor, and no one says it, but they're all disappointed in me. I can't help feeling that I'll turn out bad as well, as though it's inevitable. There are so many people I don't get along with, and there's a lot of rivalry with the other houses too – everyone in Slytherin has to hate the Gryffindors, it's like a law. But… I don't. I've never felt that I belonged there.' 

Professor Dumbledore was quiet and pensive for a few moments. Then he looked at Andromeda shrewdly, and she couldn't fathom what he was thinking. His brow furrowed. 

'Andromeda Green, the Sorting Hat has never made a mistake yet, and I don't believe that your placement in Slytherin was one either. Of course you have felt that you do not belong – the most surprising people have doubts about these matters. But you do belong in Slytherin. You are strong-willed, clear-minded, perceptive and independent – all qualities which outline most Slytherins. And, of course, they are not all bad.

'Many bad wizards have come from Slytherin, but a fair share were from other houses as well. Grindelwald himself was a Ravenclaw. A quarter of the school is in Slytherin, and I sincerely hope that they are not all nasty and unpleasant.' He smiled. 'I am sure that you would make a very formidable Dark witch. But as long as you use your qualities wisely, Andromeda, and do not choose the wrong path to follow – and I have great faith in you – you can also be a great opponent of the Dark forces. 

'As for the matter of the rivalry, particularly between Gryffindor and Slytherin – this is something that has always been, and as long as I have been part of this school, has upset me. People like you can change it, however – people who understand that it should not be this way. Prejudice has caused immense disasters in the past, Andromeda, and can only be combated by those who truly see through it. Do not succumb.' 

As she left the office, Andromeda Green had a lot to think about. 

After Transfiguration on Tuesday afternoon, Harry was returning to the Gryffindor common room when he was grabbed from behind. On the point of shouting, he turned around and saw a tall, stocky, formidable-looking redhead. It was Helena Pratt, one of Andromeda's friends. 

'Harry Potter.' It was a statement, not a question, so Harry kept quiet. He felt a bit silly. Helena was about a foot taller than him. 'My friend Andromeda is a bit upset about you.' 

'Is she?' Harry was bewildered. Surely he couldn't have annoyed Andromeda that much? 

'Yes. But it's not how you think. You see, Harry, she told me about something you told her last Sunday.'

So it was about that. 'Did she?' he said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

'Potter, you silly git. She's mad about you!' 

Harry was gobsmacked. '_What_?' 

'Andromeda feels exactly the same as you. Now I can't see why – you're a bit short for my liking –' she grinned, and he found himself liking this commanding girl – 'but she's strange and won't talk to you, so I suggest you find her. And do it soon please. She's driving us all mad, mooching around all the time. OK?' 

'OK,' mumbled Harry. He hardly noticed Helena leave, and it was a full fifteen minutes before he realised that the last milling students had gone and headed back to the common room. 

Helena returned to the Slytherin common room long after everyone else, and Andromeda's heart sank. She had a horrible feeling she knew where her friend had been. So she asked her. 

Helena smiled slyly. 'Unfinished business.' 

Andromeda felt a rush of mixed gratitude and fury. 'Helena, if you've been where I think you've been, then you're either the best friend I've ever had or I absolutely hate you and I'm never speaking to you again!' she finished. 

'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Helena in mock shock. 'I have been having a secret rendezvous with my old friend Professor Flitwick, actually.' 

Helena was taken aback a moment later by Andromeda flinging herself across the room and attaching herself to her middle. 

Andromeda knew where Harry would look for her, so she hurried to the library. She settled down in front of her usual stack of shelves. Sure enough, less than two minutes later Harry emerged from between a couple of shelving units and grinned. 'I thought you'd be here.' 

'I'm so sorry, Harry, I don't know what I put you through because I felt bad enough myself and I knew you liked me back and I'm so sorry I've started caring what everyone thinks because I never used to and I have to stop now because if it's going to stop me from being with you…' 

She stopped talking abruptly as Harry leaned over and kissed her. 

At nine o'clock in the evening, one Tuesday in late November, the Gryffindor common room was thrown into turmoil by the appearance of Harry Potter with a Slytherin in tow. 'What's _she_ doing here?' Fred Weasley demanded, as though Draco Malfoy himself had come into the room. 

'I don't want this to happen any more,' said Harry. 'This is Andromeda Green. Yes, she's a Slytherin, but she's also a wonderful person and my girlfriend. In fact, I love her. So remember that there are some nice Slytherins – more than one, as I've found out today – as well as people from this house you don't get on with. Please get to know her before you decide you hate her, or you're nothing better than Draco Malfoy yourself.' 

Perhaps for the first time in a crowded Gryffindor common room, there was silence. For a few moments, nobody knew quite what to say. Then, without warning, there was the sound of a great many chairs being pushed back as everyone rushed over to meet Andromeda. After all, there is some good in every house, and this one was no exception. Also, of course, nobody wanted to be compared to Draco Malfoy. 

I know that sounded quite conclusive, but it will continue for a long time yet – as long as I know the roman numerals to accommodate more chapters, in fact. 


	6. Malfoy Is A Git Again

The Greens are mine. Ralassar is mine. Everything else is J. K. Rowling's. 

WARNING: this contains cheese! 

Emelus and Graìnne Green were surprised, in early December, to receive an owl carrying the following note from their eldest daughter: 

__

Dear Mum and Dad, 

If you don't mind, I'd like to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. I haven't stayed before and I've heard that it's very nice, so I thought I'd see what it was like. Also, I've been making a lot of new friends lately, and I've got a boyfriend. You'd like him. Maybe you can meet him one holiday. 

Term is going well. The holidays start in a couple of weeks so the work is winding down. Draco Malfoy is still being a pain, but I'm used to him and I don't spend as much time in the Slytherin common room as I used to. (A lot of my new friends are in Gryffindor.) I have been doing well in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy and Transfiguration, not so well in Herbology or Potions. I've also been getting much more into Quidditch. Can we go to a match some time? 

Write back before the holidays and tell me whether I can stay at school. 

Lots of love,

Andromeda XXX

'Well!' said Graìnne, looking flustered. 'I was never expecting that.' 

'I'm pleased for her,' smiled Emelus. 'I'll miss her at Christmas, of course, but she sounds so much happier than usual! And she's getting involved with Gryffindors as well, which is good. I never took An for a Slytherin.' 

'Nor me,' said his wife, 'but I'm glad too. Though I was rather hoping we'd go to me sister Eimear's for the holidays.' 

'We can still go,' said Emelus, scribbling a quick note to his daughter. After all, they had another daughter and two sons to take. 'And Eimear won't mind. Your whole family's been waiting for our An to find some people she really gets on with, it's all we ever talk about when we get together. Here, do you want to sign this?' 

'What? Oh, yes please.' She took the parchment and quill from his outstretched hand and scribbled her own quick message, before tying it to the little owl's leg and watching it fly off into the rapidly darkening afternoon sky. 

Andromeda Green was sitting at the breakfast table a couple of days later when her owl, Percy (short for Perseus), dropped a light note right on top of her jam on toast. She wiped it off and opened it eagerly, recognising the Green family seal on the back. What would her parents say? 

__

Dear Andromeda, 

Your mother and I were glad to hear you've been making more friends at Hogwarts, and we'd be glad to meet your boyfriend too! It's fine if you want to stay at school over Christmas, write often though! We'll send your presents soon, I don't know how long it'll take them to get there so don't open them until the day, OK? 

Have a nice end-of-term, love Dad 

Your mother wants to add something: 

Andromeda, 

I'll write again soon, we wanted to send this as soon as possible. Glad you're making lots of friends. 

Love from Mum x x x x x

Andromeda beamed. Looking over to the Gryffindor table, she saw Harry looking expectantly at her. She gave him a thumbs-up sign, and he grinned. 

Smiling into her toast, Andromeda started eating, but was nudged vigorously by Helena on her right and Rebecca on her left simultaneously. 'Well?' they chorused. 

'Well what?' She was _still _grinning. She must look like an idiot. To her delight, she didn't care. 'All right. I'm staying!' 

Her friends shrieked and hugged her. Malfoy gave them a dirty look. 'Well, that's me decided. I'm going home.' 

'Oh, shut up, Malfoy, you git,' Andromeda waved her hand vaguely at him and Helena cackled, remembering that morning a while ago when Andromeda had unintentionally called him the same thing. He flushed and frowned. 

'At least I date inside my own species.' 

'Yes, it must be hard for you,' Andromeda said, trying to keep calm in spite of the anger she felt. 'Trying to find other apes at Hogwarts must be very difficult.' 

'Mudblood,' muttered Malfoy. He often gave up trying to argue with Andromeda – she was rarely bothered by what he said to her, and he never quite knew how to react. 

Andromeda's fury was short-lived. She couldn't be upset at anything right then. She was happy. She had finally found friends she wanted to be with all the time, she was comfortable as herself again, she was in love, and she didn't have to leave for Christmas. What could go wrong?

It was still dark somewhere. It was winter always here, and the sun had not yet circled around to where the residents of Ralassar wanted it to be, so the dawn would not come on time. The morning was eerily like twilight. 

Something was terribly wrong in Ralassar. It was a small village, bare and sparsely populated. Mountains, low but wide-based, loomed to its eastward border and to the south, houses jostled for the space closest to the nearest town. This was where almost everyone lived, all but one of the few residents of the north-west having moved away. The north-west was where things had started happening – horrible things. No one knew what had arrived, but a sickening dread had set into everyone who lived in Ralassar, and they knew it would not be long before whatever it was would spread. 

This was where the forest began, a great mass of trees so dense that the villagers had never penetrated it further than about one hundred metres in. It became even thicker that far in, and most felt it was too much trouble to try. The local children had their stories of witches and monsters, and even the adults told of escaped criminals and wild animals. There was an understanding throughout the generations – as long as they did not venture into the forest, the things that dwelt in it would not harm them. 

But deep inside the wood, where an unnatural warmth pervaded because of the enclosedness, somebody plotted to dispel this universal belief. The Ralassarans had never imagined an evil of this magnitude. For this, a quiet forest in the far north of Europe, had seen in the past few months more horrors than ever in its previous thousand years' existence. Lord Voldemort had chosen it for his home. 

At Hogwarts, Harry Potter and Andromeda Green were sitting in the Gryffindor common room looking at one another. This was a pastime they had indulged in rather a lot lately, and one that had caused much bewilderment for the rest of the Gryffindors. Neither could explain why it held such appeal, and as none of their friends were presently in love, it was unfathomable to absolutely everyone. 

They were sitting in armchairs side to side, but had turned in the chairs to face one another. Ron, Fred, George, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were assembled around them, listening to (and laughing at) Lee Jordan's commentary. 

'And they're looking at each other – something's going to happen very soon, it has to – looking – Potter blinks – ooh, Green blinks twice! – Potter's smiling – still looking – and yes, we have a twitch of the head from Potter, ladies and gentlemen! The crowd goes wild! Never before has such a twitch been seen!' 

'Shut up, Lee,' said Harry, not removing his gaze from Andromeda's eyes. Her eyes were very interesting, he had decided, flecked with little tiny shiny stars. They could all be in someone's eye, couldn't they? Just imagine if the whole solar system and the planets and stars were all little tiny silver flecks in the blue-black eye of a very large person. It wasn't hard to imagine a whole galaxy or even a universe in Andromeda's eyes. 

Slowly the others began to lose interest, and dispersed one by one to finish homework or chat with their friends. Hermione, oddly enough, didn't seem to find their engagement in staring particularly funny. Hermione had become quite close to Andromeda lately, something Harry and Ron were glad about – their friend had all too often given the impression that she felt left out. 

Hermione was not working, though to the casual observer it would have appeared that she was. In fact, she was supposed to be. A book of basic Animagus forms was open on her lap. But Hermione was staring into space, thinking. 

Hermione didn't know it yet, but Harry and Andromeda were not the only ones in the Gryffindor common room that were in love. 

Aha… the plot thickens! Is Hermione in love? Is someone in love with her? You will find out. I am presently writing chapters eight and nine. 


	7. Hermione And Reading Together Are A Forc...

Some stuff is mine. The rest is J. K. Rowling's. I am not trying to claim ownership of anything that isn't mine, so I will stop there. 

In Ralassar, the corpses of woodland animals like deer and rodents were scattered in a circle too wide to be visible from the ground. The activity in the house central to the terrible circle was too much for these animals. Humans could withstand it, just about, but no one had yet tried. No true human had come within a mile of the house for some time. 

The house itself was tall and skeletally thin, like its single resident. It was built from dark wood, dampened by the snow that lay close by. The house looked simple but was surrounded by potent enchantments and it would have been a job to damage it. Inside it was hot – unbearably so. 

Lord Voldemort was sitting in a straight-backed chair, watching a man in the corner of the room. The man would break soon. Voldemort had not even needed to use magic with this one after he brought him here. The man was weak, and Voldemort hated him. He often hated things, and always had; it was partly this which had made him what he was. 

'Mostly public relations, you see… I don't know much of what goes on…' Rare words from the prisoner. He did not speak often now. Usually it was repeated from what he had said at first, before he knew who he was talking to. That was when he had been the most useful. Even then he had not been much help. Maybe he really didn't know anything of use. But Voldemort had not even considered letting him go. 

The Ministry of Magic was busier than usual. They were concerned about the disappearance of one of their members. It was a far cry from when Bertha Jorkins had gone missing; with the supposed return of the Dark Lord, everyone was on edge. Arthur Weasley was attempting to deal with a couple of Russian wizards who had arrived uninvited by Floo powder. They claimed to have seen the missing man, but weeks ago; it would probably be too late to investigate. 

It was already too late for Ludo Bagman, as he lay on the cold floorboards of the house. It was almost over. 

Fred and George Weasley, chuckling at their own genius, were sitting in the library at Hogwarts. It was not usually a place that was graced with their presence, and they were unfamiliar to Madam Pince, who was glaring at them as they laughed rather too loudly for her liking. But they were unaware. A scheme had presented itself to them, and they were making the most of it. 

Up in the common room, their absence went unnoticed by Harry, Ron, Hermione and Andromeda. Harry and Andromeda were, for once, apart, giving each other a chance to catch up with their other friends. Andromeda was sitting with Hermione, and Harry with Ron. 

Hermione had found that she and the striking but unusual-looking Slytherin girl had a lot in common. Both of their mothers had been Muggles, though Andromeda's father was a wizard; both were intelligent and excelled in Transfiguration; both had felt left out of their friendship groups more than once. But they were different enough to enjoy each others' company and Hermione was glad she'd found another girl on her wavelength. 

While the girls discussed their futures and hoped-for careers, Harry and Ron were on the rather lighter subject of Quidditch. 'Since Wood's been gone, practice has been so much more fun,' said Harry. 'I mean, he was a good Keeper and everything, but he was a bit obsessive.' 

'Percy-like,' noted Ron. 

'Exactly,' said Harry. 

'What's this about Percy?' Andromeda asked. The girls had rejoined them. 

'How do you know Percy?' Ron looked surprised. 

'I think we must be talking about a different Percy,' said Andromeda, 'as he's my owl.' 

'You've got an owl called _Percy_?' Ron spluttered. 'Why, oh why did you choose that name?' 

'That isn't his real name,' she explained. 'It's short for Perseus. Perseus, in Greek mythology, killed Medusa the Gorgon and on his way home, rescued a maiden from a sea monster…' 

'Called nothing other than Andromeda!' finished Hermione triumphantly. 'I've been reading up on mythology. It's very interesting, you know,' she defended as Ron looked at her incredulousy. 

'Hermione, with the amount of extra homework you've been doing, how do you find time to know everything about mythology as well?' 

'I don't know everything. Actually, the story of Perseus is very well known.' Ron decided to give up. Hermione and reading together were a force to be reckoned with. 

In the forest on the edge of Ralassar, the prisoner of Voldemort had reached the end. He had slipped too far into unconsciousness to return. The search for Ludo Bagman continued, but it would prove to no avail. He would die before what would have been sunset, if the sun ever showed in this tiny, hopeless, ravaged place.

I was going to leave this note with another chapter but I forgot, so: 

Graìnne is pronounced _Graun ya _or thereabouts. It's the Irish version of Grace. 


	8. We Will Destroy It

This took longer than usual because a) I was ill for a couple of days L and b) I couldn't think of any ideas! But now the eighth part is done and I'm working on the ninth. Still. 

It was past midnight at Hogwarts when Severus Snape, unable to sleep, felt the now familiar burning in his left arm. Rolling back his robes, he saw the shape imprinted on his mind: the Dark Mark. He was being summoned, and steeled himself for what he had once again to do. 

He wrapped more robes around himself, meagre protection against the winter night, and hurried from the castle to a point sufficiently far to enable Apparition. Then, wand in hand, he moved to his unknown destination. 

It was the first time he had seen Voldemort's present residence. The air around the house trembled with evil and Snape shuddered in revulsion. He must pretend to be the same as these people. He must take responsibility for everything they did. 

He entered, shaking, trying to make it seem because he was cold. A man lay dead in the corner. Snape recognised him and recoiled. He had never liked Ludo Bagman, but to die at the hands of Voldemort, who was as merciful as he was good… 

Death Eaters were assembled, rosy-cheeked and red-nosed, but not Voldemort, who stood in the centre of the room as chalk-white as ever. 'My Lord,' muttered Snape, eyes down. He joined the circle. 

'The time has come,' Voldemort said abruptly. 'Severus Snape, you have yet to prove your worth as a Death Eater. Hogwarts remains the single impenetrable fortress. I have contacts everywhere, I have ways into everywhere – except there. Snape, you will assist me. A week from now, you will provide me with a way into the school, and we will destroy it.' 

This speech provoked approving, admiring mutters from most of the Death Eaters. 'I will, my lord,' Snape said. _He cannot even find a way himself_, thought Snape with contempt. _I am ashamed to call him my lord_. 

The meeting was a short one, and Snape was glad to leave. But deep inside him, dread was brewing. How could he meet Voldemort's demands? How could he appear to betray Dumbledore? 

Unlike Snape, Harry Potter was asleep, but it was far from peaceful rest. He dreamt three times, or that was how many he recalled upon waking; none of the dreams comforted him. 

It was dark, wherever his first dream took place; a kind of profound night which never touched the rest of the world. A little house, cold and unfriendly, charged with some sort of frightening power, stood in the centre of a forest, in a place that was never warm. There was someone inside, someone whose face he couldn't see; but then he saw a dead body lying on the ground, the body of someone familiar, and then he knew who it must be. 

Second, he dreamed of Snape. He didn't want to dream of Snape, and tried to wake up; but of course, he was only dreaming that he was trying to wake up, so it didn't work. Snape was approaching the house from the first dream. He took out his wand and pointed it at someone, and then Harry could see the figure frozen still in front of the house – the figure with messy black hair, green eyes and a scar on its forehead. Snape shouted '_Avada Kedavra!_' and Harry watched himself topple to the ground. 

His last dream, though the least graphic, was the most horrifying to Harry. He was a man – at least thirty, he assumed. Not remembering much about anything, he arrived in front of his house, saw the Dark Mark hovering there and knew, for the only time, truly why it was so feared. He knew that Andromeda was inside. 

Deep in the school, while the boy called Harry Potter was sleeping troubled, Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore were discussing an important matter. 

'Severus, this will be a difficult time for you, more than you have ever known,' Dumbledore told him gently. 'But if you persevere on the side of good, if you continue to fight against evil while standing in its midst, only good can come of it.'

'But how can I do it?' Snape asked desperately. 'How can I possibly trick him without letting him into the castle?' 

'We will have to tell him of a genuine passage into the school,' mused Dumbledore, 'and make sure that it is heavily guarded and protected. That is all that I can think of just now. But I am expecting visitors, Severus. You may remain here if you wish…' 

Before he could warn Snape, a popping sound could be heard, and in the heart of Dumbledore's fireplace appeared a head. It was Remus Lupin, and to his dismay, he saw Severus Snape standing in the room, glaring at him. He glared back. 'Hello, Professor,' Lupin said. 

A second later, another head appeared with a second _pop_. 'Ouch,' complained Sirius Black as they momentarily jostled for space – a very strange spectacle. Then they finally hovered eerily side by side. 'Hello, Professor,' greeted Sirius. 

'Greetings, Remus, Sirius,' said Dumbledore, looking expectantly at Snape, who muttered something almost inaudible. With a resigned smile, Dumbledore stepped forward and crouched down before the fireplace. 'Any news?' 

'The Ministry's still searching for Bagman,' said Lupin with a sigh, 'haven't even got any leads. I heard they followed up on those Russians – too late to really find out anything, though it does sound like they've seen him.' 

'Any more disappearances?'

'Not that we've heard,' said Sirius. 'Well, they were a bit worried about the whereabouts of Isabelle Drew – you know, she was acquitted of being a Death Eater right at the end – but it turned out she'd just been visiting family away from home. That's about it.' 

'And Karkaroff?' 

'Caught,' said Sirius triumphantly. 'Just this afternoon. That's why we wanted to see you.' 

'That's excellent,' said Dumbledore, beaming. 'One good thing, I suppose, with the Ministry still torn between who to believe. They will never get anything done if they do not listen to reason. Anyway, what are the details on Karkaroff?' 

'They found him when they went to look for Bagman in Russia,' Lupin said. 'He'd been hiding out in the south.' 

'Didn't actually get him back here for three days, though,' cut in Sirius. 'Being typically inept, and lost him just past Durmstrang – don't know how an idiot like him managed to escape. He's being called to trial in just over a week. I expect you'll be invited very soon.' 

'I won't bank on that,' said Dumbledore with a wry smile. 'Since Cornelius Fudge decided to try and fool everyone else as well as himself, I have become far less indispensable at the Ministry.' 

'But surely they'll still invite you?' Lupin looked bewildered. 'They always have before.' 

'Things have changed.' 

Dumbledore and Snape talked for some time, even after Sirius and Lupin had left. The matter of Voldemort's planned attack on Hogwarts was an important one, and had to be discussed in depth. Neither slept that night.


	9. Who Are You Going To The Ball With?

DISCLAIMER: Everyone and everything that has ever been featured in a Harry Potter book belongs to that artistic genius, J. K. Rowling. Andromeda belongs to me – but J. K.'s welcome to borrow her if she likes! ;-) All of the fuel in Great Britain also belongs to me and I'm charging £1000 per litre!

Harry Potter awoke and knew, without hesitation, what one of his dreams had been. 

Lessons drifted by. He could not pay attention for more than a minute at a time. If only he knew more – if only his first dream could have been clearer – they could find where Voldemort was hiding. But Ludo Bagman was dead, that he was sure of. He had to find Dumbledore. 

As soon as they had a break he headed for the office, but, trying last year's password, he found that it didn't work. He could have cried with frustration. This was one of the most important things Harry had ever known, and he could not find the man who most needed to be told of it. 

Harry found Andromeda and asked her whether she had been to see Dumbledore as he had suggested. She had, and told him the password. He left hurriedly, with no more words, leaving her wondering what she had done wrong. 

'Cauldron cakes,' he muttered to the grimacing stone gargoyle. He could not wait for the revolving staircase that was revealed to ascend, and took the steps two at a time. Finally he was facing the almost familiar oak door, and knocked urgently. 

The reply came within seconds; it was almost as though Dumbledore had been expecting him. 'Come in, Harry,' said the headmaster. 

'Ludo Bagman is dead,' he said, still standing in the doorway. Dumbledore looked sharply at him. 

'How do you know?' 

'I had a dream.' He paused, thinking of how to phrase it. 'I've had dreams like them before. They're always turned out to be real, actually happening elsewhere. Voldemort killed Bagman, and they're hiding somewhere in the north, I think – it's cold there –'

'Harry, are you absolutely sure this is true? I do not want to cause any further unnecessary panic within the Ministry, but if you are certain, I will believe you.' 

'Yes, Professor. I'm absolutely sure.' 

Harry sat nervously in a chair as Dumbledore wrote a few short notes and sent them off with various owls. Then the headmaster turned to him and said, 'Harry, I would like you to tell me exactly what you know about the place where Voldemort is living.' 

As Harry related every detail about the place of his dream, a crimson quill took down each word he said with impossible speed. Dumbledore was not holding the quill, just resting the tip of his finger lightly on its feather as it scored along the page. Words spilled remarkably quickly from both the quill and Harry's lips. 

Finally he could think of nothing more about the place. Dumbledore presently dismissed him, and he returned to the Gryffindor common room. 

It was empty, being almost time for lessons to restart. He walked inside, needing a rest, however brief, and noticed that the room did, after all, have occupants. Fred and George were sitting on the floor behind an armchair,muttering to one another, and as Harry wandered closer he heard a piece of their conversation: 

'You can't put _that_, he'd never write _that_.' 

'But she doesn't know that, does she?' 

'Fred, come on! It's got to sound real, otherwise what's the point? This isn't going to work if they figure it out.' 

'What are you doing?' Harry asked suspiciously. Fred and George looked up guiltily, and George shifted himself to sit on a piece of parchment. 

'Nothing.' 

'Oh yeah,' said Harry sarcastically. 

'Harry, it's none of your business, so keep your nose out, OK?' said Fred sharply. 

Harry, despite being very curious, knew that pestering the twins wouldn't do any good, and hurried off to Herbology. 

It was the week before Christmas and preparations were under way for the Yule Ball, an event that had been so successful the previous year that the Hogwarts staff had decided to hold it again, despite the absence of the Triwizard Tournament. Once again, there was a much larger number of students staying for the holidays. 

The halls were filled with nervous-looking teenagers, blushing, giggling and looking much more nervous than usual in the last week of term. It was hardly noticeable when the holidays began, as so few pupils had opted to return home. Harry, who was taking his attendance with Andromeda for granted, had noticed that Ron was behaving strangely. 

'Who are you going to the Yule Ball with?' he asked. Ron flushed deeply. 

'I don't know,' he mumbled. 

'Well, hadn't you better find someone?' 

'No, it's OK… I will…' 

He got an equally vague response when he asked Hermione, but she had found someone to attend with. When asked who – 'I'm not telling you,' she said aloofly. 

Harry groaned. 'It's not Viktor Krum again, is it?' 

This time Hermione blushed. 'No, it isn't. In fact, I haven't heard from him since I turned down his offer to stay with him.' She looked downcast. 'I told him I had to stay here – I couldn't exactly leave when Voldemort could return at any moment, could I?' 

'Of course you couldn't,' Harry reassured her. Just then, Andromeda arrived at their side, out of breath after sprinting from the Slytherin common room. 

'Kieran Ladysmith asked me to the Yule Ball,' she told Hermione, chuckling. Hermione looked surprised. 

'He's really good-looking, isn't he? What did you say?' 

'She said no, of course,' Harry cut in, feeling slightly threatened. 'She's already got a date.' 

'Have I?' said Andromeda in mock surprise. 'Well, that's a shock, seeing as I haven't been asked.' She hesitated, looking expectantly at Harry. 

'You shouldn't have to be asked,' he said crossly. 'You're my girlfriend, after all.' 

'I haven't been very aware of that recently,' replied Andromeda, her temper flaring up. 

Hermione, looking extremely uncomfortable, said, 'Oh, look… there's Parvati and Lavender…' and scuttled off. 

'What are you talking about?' demanded Harry. 

'You haven't even been _talking _to me. You've barely said a word to me for a week. Not even hello. And you can't just take it for granted that I'm going to go to the ball with you, when you've been ignoring me for weeks…' 

'I haven't! I have _not _been ignoring you!' 

'You have barely been acknowledging me, Harry, and you've got to learn that I won't just follow you about and do what you want. You've got to have some respect for me as well.' 

'Andromeda, you're blowing this completely out of proportion –'

'I am not blowing anything out of proportion, and if you don't stop taking me for granted I might just say yes to Kieran.' And she stormed off, leaving Harry standing open-mouthed in the corridor, surrounded by a small crowd. 

Severus Snape stood before Lord Voldemort. There was no-one else in the room, not even Wormtail. They were alone. 

'You have had your week,' said Voldemort. 

'Yes, sir.' 

'What do you have to tell me?' 

Snape exhaled loudly, then began his false betrayal of Dumbledore. At Hogwarts, a small party of guards was being assembled. The Hogwarts professors would not have a peaceful Christmas. 

Fred and George Weasley were sitting in their dormitory, putting the finishing touches to what they regarded as twin works of art. Their little scheme was coming off perfectly, and neither could wait to see how it would turn out. 

It was chaos in the Gryffindor common room. It was completely divided; friendship groups were more pronounced than ever, girls huddling with girls and boys lounging with boys, both trying to look nonchalant. It wasn't working. Every now and then someone would cross from the boys' side to the girls' or vice versa, and a momentary explosion would take place as everyone within earshot began to giggle. The giggling got worse every year, Harry had decided. 

Ginny Weasley blushed more vividly than Ron, if it was possible, as Neville Longbottom approached her and, himself the colour of beetroot, invited her to the ball. It looked as though she had agreed, as she smiled shyly and he returned to a cackling Dean and Seamus. Many pairs were already established; Seamus and Lavender, who were sort-of going out, were attending together, and Dean had asked Parvati; Fred Weasley was going with Angelina and George with Alicia. Katie Bell, Grace Ramsbottom and Grace's friend Lizzie Biddleswick all had partners outside Gryffindor. 

Ron and Hermione remained strangely unaffected. Harry suggested that they attended together, but Ron derided this suggestion and Hermione reminded him that she already had a date. 'What's the point of this secrecy?' Harry asked, annoyed. But Hermione just looked aloof and didn't answer. 

Harry himself was fighting an emotional battle. He wanted to go to the ball with Andromeda, but it would hurt his pride to apologise, and he was embarassed, having realised that she had been right. And what if she'd said yes to Kieran What's-his-name? 

Harry couldn't bring himself to enter the Slytherin common room, and eventually went to bed with the issue unresolved.


	10. Dean Is Not Putting His Hair In Bunches

Hopefully this will satisfy all you readers who think Harry needs to swallow his pride! 

It was very, very early when Harry awoke. He had not dreamt again; but there was something heavily resting on his mind and he had to sort it out. As soon as an appropriate hour had dawned, he left the Gryffindor room and seated himself outside the Slytherin dungeon. 

Before long, someone emerged and Harry turned around, his heart jumping – but it was the person he least wanted to see. 

'What do _you _want, Potty?' sneered Draco Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson, clutching his arm, sniggered obediently. 

'I'm waiting for Andromeda,' he replied calmly. 

'Oh, yes, your Mudblood girlfriend. Ah well, no decent Slytherin would want to go out with you anyway.' 

'_Decent _Slytherin? Andromeda's the most decent one I know! And she's not a _Mudblood_, either, you stupid bigot. You're the one that's going to miss out on wonderful people just because you're too narrow-minded to see any further than what your coward dad's fed you.' 

'I have a mind of my own, actually,' said Malfoy coolly, 'and it can tell that all the worst people hang around together. Let's go, Pansy, I don't want to catch anything.' 

Harry struggled to keep himself from shouting something extremely rude at Malfoy's retreating back. 

It was a long time before anyone else left the room, and to Harry's relief, this time it was Helena Pratt. She grinned at the sight of him. 'I'll get An for you, better get in there before Kieran Ladysmith does.' 

Harry was feeling extremely nervous. What if Andromeda had already said yes to Kieran? What if she wanted to break up with him? He didn't think he'd be able to bear it. He was already missing her, and couldn't imagine his life Andromeda-less.

A familiar raven head poked out of the doorway, its blue eyes narrowing as they set on Harry. 'What do you want?' asked Andromeda. 

'I would be honoured if you'd go to the Yule Ball with me,' said Harry, pulling her by the arm out into the corridor. 'I _have _been taking you for granted, and I didn't mean to, I should have paid much more attention to you… I love you, An, and I never meant to ignore you or anything. I've been thinking about things – I know that's no excuse, I should have talked to you about it – but I wasn't thinking straight, and I didn't know what to do, and I don't know what to say except that I'm _so sorry_.' 

Andromeda looked crestfallen. 'Harry, I already told Kieran I'd go with him…' 

'Oh. OK then.' Harry felt numb. He turned around and began to walk away. 

Suddenly he felt something grab him round the neck. He spun around, surprised, and saw Andromeda there. She had flung herself onto him. 'Harry, of course I didn't say I'd go with Kieran!' she cried. 'I love _you_, I didn't want to go with anyone except you. And I'll be glad to listen, if you want to talk about what's been on your mind…' 

Harry grinned, feeling lighter than he had in many weeks. He kissed Andromeda, still smiling, right there in the corridor, without even caring that Helena and her friends were hanging out of the door, catcalling and giving him the thumbs-up sign. 

It was the night of the Yule Ball, and the Gryffindor boys were putting significantly more effort into their appearances than last year. Seamus and Dean were fighting for the space in front of the mirror, both frantically combing subtle amounts of gel into their hair; Ron was adjusting his new midnight-blue dress robes, revelling in the conspicuously lace-free cuffs; Harry was trying to flatten his own unruly hair down with large quantities of water whilst polishing his glasses; even Neville was desperately trying to charm his robes to any other colour than their present scarlet, which Ginny had informed him would clash with her hair. 

Fred and George were hovering around looking amused. They both looked perfectly presentable, of course, with their hair neat and their dress robes (black and forest-green respectively) immaculate. How long they would stay so tidy, of course, Harry could not guess, because before the night was over they would undoubtedly pull off some spectacular prank. 

'Aah, don't the little girls look _nice_,' teased Fred. 'Putting your hair in bunches, are we, Dean?' 

'Shut up,' Dean glowered. Seamus cackled uproariously, taking Dean's momentary lapse in concentration as an opportunity to shove him out of the way, but George's next comment left him blushing. 

'Got to look pretty for Lavender, haven't we, Seamus? Love those lilac robes, by the way.' 

'They're purple,' said Seamus furiously, sitting on the ground where he had been jostled by Dean. 

'They won't go! They just _won't go_!' Neville said, frustrated, holding up his dress robes, which had turned vivid pink. 'This colour won't go with Ginny's hair!' 

'I don't know, I think it's a rather fetching combination,' said George, snatching the robes and holding them up to his own flame-coloured head. 'Seriously, ask Hermione. She'll be able to do it.' Gratefully, Neville shuffled out of the room, returning five minutes later with silvery-coloured robes and a big grin. 

In the girls' dormitory, the scene was similar. Grace Ramsbottom was curling Lavender Brown's hair, who in turn was plaiting Parvati's. Hermione passed a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to Lizzie Biddleswick, the other Gryffindor girl – it was her sole essential beauty product, but she didn't mind sharing the secret. Hermione herself was looking nice, she thought – her robes were creamy white with simple blue trimming, and her hair was as shiny and neat as last year. 

Sitting down on her bed as soon as she was ready to go, Hermione pulled a slip of parchment from the folds of her robes. 

__

Dear Hermione, 

Will you go the Yule Ball with me? That night is the night we must finally meet face to face. I hope you will join me in the Entrance Hall at ten minutes to eight. I will wear a silver dove on my robes, so that you may tell who I am. My heart will be broken if you are not there. 

Till the Ball

xxx

'Nice brooch, Ron!' jeered Fred as his younger brother pinned the spread-winged silver bird onto his robes. 

'It's a badge, and shut up,' Ron replied. 

It was a quarter to eight, and Harry met Andromeda in the library –where they had first met. He felt a bit silly, but she insisted it was romantic, and he supposed it probably was, not really knowing much about romance. She looked very nice, Harry noted – her hair was loose and flowing over the shoulders of her electric-blue robes, but was dotted with silver and white stars that shimmered in the candlelight. She was wearing a silver chain around her head. On anyone else it would have looked very odd, but for some reason, it suited Andromeda. 

They proceeded to the Great Hall, but the dance had not started yet. Students were milling around in pairs, chatting coyly and looking mostly nervous. It had been decided that the Prefects, Head Boy and Head Girl should begin dancing with their partners, which meant Hermione, but not Harry or Ron. Harry was glad. He didn't want to repeat last year's rather pathetic attempt at dancing. He couldn't see Ron or Hermione anywhere. 

'_What_ are you doing here?' hissed Hermione, her eyes glued to the dove pinned to Ron's robes. 

'Waiting for someone,' said Ron irritably, covering the badge with his hand. 'Is that OK with you?' 

'No!' Hermione shouted. 'I mean, yes… but why are you wearing that badge?'

'No reason,' said Ron, looking sheepish. 

'Ron, do you know who's been sending me notes?' 

Ron looked as though she had punched him. '_What_?' 

'I've been getting notes from a secret admirer, OK?' 

'_What_? Keep your voice down!' 

'Have you been getting them too?' Hermione hissed. She had realised something. 

'Yes, I have,' said Ron defensively. 'In fact, she sent me this badge – told me to wear it tonight. _Hold on_!' 

'Someone's been having us on,' said Hermione darkly. 'Thought it was a great joke, probably. Well, there's nothing for it – we'll have to go to the ball together.' 

'No! We can't!' Ron looked panicked. 

'And why not? Oh, come on, Ron, the dancing's going to start any minute now –'

'_I don't care_! We can't go to the ball together! Because – because –'

'We've got to.' And Hermione grabbed Ron by the arm and steered him, still protesting weakly, towards the Great Hall. 

Harry and Andromeda were gazing at the Prefects, standing importantly at the front of the crowd, when they saw a sight which surprised them both. Hermione was walking past – and on her arm was Ron. 

'_What_?' they said together. 'Did you see that? Yes.' 

Andromeda chuckled weakly. 'Well, I never would have thought of that. Hermione and Ron? I thought she would've told me.' 

'Well, Ron told me he wasn't going with anyone,' said Harry, feeling slightly hurt. 'And I believed him, too.' 

'I'm sure it wasn't anything personal.' Andromeda hugged Harry quickly. 

The doors had opened and the Prefects were striding in, Ron lagging slightly behind Hermione, but the rest of the crowd was surging in as one very large unit. Harry and Andromeda quickly occupied one of the larger tables, allowing Neville and Ginny to sit down as well as some other Gryffindors. Helena Pratt, her friends and their partners sat at a table nearby, and Helena waved at Harry and Andromeda. Both waved back. 

The dancing started presently. Harry tried to keep from laughing as Hermione steered Ron around the floor – Ron was about six inches taller and very red-faced. Neither seemed to really know what they were doing, but at least Hermione looked businesslike – Ron was just allowing himself to be dragged about. 

When the other students were allowed onto the floor, Harry and Andromeda didn't go straight away – they stayed sitting down. 'I'm not a very good dancer,' admitted Andromeda. 

'Well, I bet I'm worse,' said Harry. 

'Seriously? Two Galleons.' 

'You're on,' said Harry, surprised. 'But how are we going to judge it?' 

'Helena!' yelled Andromeda. Helena came over. 'Will you judge which of us is the worst dancer?' 

'OK,' said Helena, frowning confusedly. 'What, now?' 

'Yes, now,' said Harry, and stood up, pulling Andromeda after him. 'Come on, An.' 

It was a close contest. Harry stepped on Andromeda's feet several times, and she almost tripped on more than one occasion. They swerved and swayed all over the dance floor, knocking unsuspecting partygoers out of the way. When Harry glanced over to Helena, he saw that she was doubled over with laughter. But he didn't care. 

The song ended and they returned to their table. 'Well?' demanded Andromeda. 

'I think it's a tie,' Helena spluttered. 'Honestly, I've never seen dancing so diabolical.' 

'Why, thank you,' said Andromeda with an over-the-top curtsey. 

It was, on the whole, a much more enjoyable night than last year. Harry didn't get to ask Ron and Hermione what was going on – they appeared to be enjoying themselves, and didn't stop dancing after Ron got the hang of it. 

But it all ended much too quickly. Harry and Andromeda went for a walk in the beautifully decorated grounds towards the end, and when they returned most students had left. Except for two people. 

A flame-red head and a mid-brown one were pressed together, their owners embracing in a corner. Harry had to walk past them to get the easiest access to the Gryffindor tower. But as he approached, he realised that he knew the kissing couple.

It was Ron and Hermione. 


	11. I Think It Was The Venemous Tentacula

For those of you who think Pettigrew is a bit OOC lately – I have decided that he's found new confidence after being given his silver hand. If I could think of a good way of illustrating that without actually describing it, I would, but I can't so I won't. Confused enough?

Hearing footsteps approaching, Hermione pushed Ron abruptly away from her. 'Er, question 24 a?' she improvised. 'I think it was the Venemous Tentacula.' 

'Honestly, you two,' said Harry exasperatedly. 'You didn't think to tell us you were – together.' 

'We're not _together_!' said Ron hotly. 

'You looked very together just then,' said Andromeda accusingly. 'Why didn't you tell us?' 

'Seriously, there is nothing going on,' said Hermione. 'Someone's been sending us both secret admirer notes to set us up to come to the ball together. So we thought we'd better come anyway, because I had to have a partner, as a Prefect.' 

'That doesn't explain what you were doing just then.' 

'I was helping Ron with his Herbology homework.' 

'She was,' put in Ron helpfully. 

'I don't know why you feel the need to keep lying,' said Andromeda, hurt. 'I thought you two were our friends.' And she left. Harry shrugged and followed her, glad of an excuse to make himself scarce. He didn't feel too much like listening to Ron and Hermione's excuses any more. 

Back in the hall, Ron and Hermione were looking at each other fearfully. 'That was just… we got caught up in the moment,' said Hermione. 'Didn't we?' 

Ron nodded. But he didn't feel at all sure. 

It was almost light outside the castle. The sky had taken on a clear gold and wisps of a darker rust colour were becoming visible against it – the clouds that would hide the sun during the day. The trees of the Forbidden Forest still looked like mere shadows, though. And inside them was assembled a large crowd. 

Death Eaters filled a clearing to its very edges and some had to take shelter between thick tree-trunks where there was not enough space. Their master and his servant had not arrived yet. Suddenly, a whip-like crack split the silence and an excited babble prevailed. A moment later, a tall, unnaturally thin figure appeared in their midst, flanked by a much smaller, hunched, rather pathetic man. 

The smaller man had one feature that made him stand out; he wore long, emerald-green gloves that reached all the way up his arms to his shoulders. He wore black robes, but the gloves shone through them as though illuminated; he slid them off to reveal, in place of his right hand, a sparkling, reflective spiderlike _thing_... 

'Put on your masks,' said a familiar high, evil voice. Obediently, and as one, the crowd of men and women around Voldemort donned black hoods with eye-slits. They would not show their faces. 

'A faithful follower has told me of a way into the castle,' said Voldemort. 'Severus Snape has risked much to aid me in my conquering of Hogwarts, and today it will finally happen; today, I have left Ralassar and travelled here. Today we will enter the castle.' He paused. 

'But before we go in we must make sure it is safe. So I have selected a Death Eater who I deem worthy to go in before we do. Lucius Malfoy, you will be the first Death Eater inside Hogwarts.' 

Lucius Malfoy's face turned white beneath his mask, but to his master he showed no fear. 'I will, my lord,' he said in a low voice. 'When do you wish me to go in?' 

'As soon as you wish,' said Voldemort, a vicious smile playing across his lips. He described the way in, then said, 'We await your return with news of the entrance's safety.' And Lucius Malfoy, visibly trembling with apprehensive fear, set off in the false twilight. 

Harry and Ron sat up at exactly the same moment. They and the other Gryffindors had been awoken by an enormous crash, somewhere close by. 'What's going on?' asked Neville shrilly, gathering his blankets around him. 

'Don't know,' Harry said darkly. 'But I'm going to find out.' Knowing, inexplicably, that this was an important morning, he dressed rapidly and pulled his Invisibility Cloak over his robes. Voices could be heard from the passage. Deaf to his friends' protests, he left the dormitory. 

The corridor was bustling with teachers, circling around something. Harry couldn't see through, until a gap appeared and Dumbledore and McGonagall appeared. Between them was held a black-clad, struggling figure. It was a Death Eater. Harry followed as they marched away. 

They were going to Dumbledore's office. Harry recognised the route. He had to slip quickly through the doorway in the wall after the teachers, and set foot on the staircase uncomfortably close behind them as it began to revolve. 

As they entered the vast room, Harry looked at the Death Eater, still held tightly by Dumbledore. He was reaching inside his cloak – reaching for his wand! Harry couldn't let it happen. He stepped forward, his own wand drawn – but Dumbledore was as quick as any Death Eater, and cried '_Expelliarmus_!' The wand came into full view and floated over to McGonagall. She pocketed it. 

'So,' said Dumbledore quietly, as though nothing had happened. 'Voldemort has sent his men inside Hogwarts. Are there more of you?' 

The Death Eater said nothing. Dumbledore reached forward and removed the mask, revealing a familiar arrogant face. It was Lucius Malfoy. 

'Lucius Malfoy, too cowardly to even address me?' Dumbledore's voice shook with a kind of hate that Harry had never known the headmaster to possess. 'Where are the rest of your kind?' 

'In the Forbidden Forest,' said Lucius Malfoy, his own voice trembling, but not with any respectable emotion. He was simply scared. 'My lord sent me in first.' 

'No doubt he was too cautious to go in himself,' Dumbledore said with contempt. 'Instead he sends in a servant to make sure he will be safe. He would sacrifice any one of you to save himself, do you not see that?' 

Lucius Malfoy said nothing. 

'I will see to it that you are sent straight to Azkaban,' said Dumbledore calmly. Producing his own wand, he bound the Death Eater with thin gold ropes and let him fall to the ground. Then, to Professor McGonagall, 'Minerva, you may go. Keep the wand safe.' 

She left, and too late Harry realised that he was trapped. He could not leave until either Dumbledore left or someone else arrived. Then, suddenly, Dumbledore spoke again. 'Harry. Show yourself.' 

Reluctantly and fearfully, Harry let the Invisibility Cloak slide to the ground. It obscured his feet, and made him appear to be floating. 'How did you know I was here?' 

'You could say I can see things which others cannot.' Dumbledore was not smiling. In fact he looked very severe. 'I am disappointed in you. This is a dangerous situation, and not really anything to do with you.' 

'I'm sorry, Professor. I just – I don't know, I got the feeling something was really wrong. I don't know what made me follow you – I was just being nosy, I suppose.' 

'Curiosity, as you well know, killed the proverbial cat. It could kill you, too, if you are not careful. These are immensely dangerous days. Harry, I am worried for your safety, and not without good reason. You are old enough to understand the extent of Voldemort's evil. He will go to any lengths to take vengeance upon you. And while we are somewhat prepared for his attack, we can never fully know what he plans to do.' 

'But – doesn't Snape tell you things like that?' The moment he had said it, Harry knew that it was a mistake. He looked frantically at Lucius Malfoy, lying immobile on the floor. The Death Eater's eyes were gleaming maliciously. 

Dumbledore looked anxious, and followed Harry's gaze to the ground. 'Harry, that is precisely what I mean. You simply cannot go blurting things like that around the castle. Go now, put the Cloak back on – you do not need to see any more.' 

Harry obeyed. He didn't know what was going to happen. Surely there was no way that Malfoy could get the information to Voldemort now – but what if he did? Snape could be in very big trouble, and it would be all his fault. He'd never liked Snape – but nevertheless, the Potions teacher was playing a very large role in the fight against Voldemort, at risk to himself. And Voldemort was so unforgiving… Harry didn't want to think about what would happen to Snape if Voldemort found out he was a spy. 

Dumbledore wrote a message as soon as Harry had closed the door behind him. 

__

Cornelius Fudge, 

We have caught an active Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy. Please be at Hogwarts as soon as you can. He is secure, but we must discuss his imprisonment in Azkaban and make sure he has no visitors. He has some information which must on no account reach Voldemort. Whether or not you have decided to believe that the Dark Lord has returned, Death Eaters must be punished at all costs and I think you will agree with me on this matter. 

Sincerely, 

Albus Dumbldore.

Cornelius Fudge received the letter reasonably quickly, and within three days Lucius Malfoy became a permanent resident of Azkaban. There was no trial – Cornelius Fudge believed in the harshest punishments for Death Eaters. 

Harry, of course, heard about Lucius Malfoy's imprisonment. Not only was the whole of Gryffindor house talking about it, and the circumstances under which it had come about, but Draco Malfoy was looking very different from usual – more withdrawn, entirely less cocky. This only served to be proof enough for those who were still speculating that this was a rumour. 

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Andromeda were keeping quiet about the Yule Ball's happenings – pretty much pretending it hadn't happened. They were avoiding the issue, and if anyone mentioned it, all four became extremely uncomfortable. But now they didn't have to search for topics of conversation. One had presented itself rather helpfully. 

'Got what he deserved,' spat Ron. 'If you ask me, if anyone deserves the Dementors it's a Death Eater.' 

'I don't think anyone really deserves the Dementors,' said Harry quietly, thinking of what had replayed in his head whenever one of those foul creatures approached him. 'Well, except maybe Voldemort.' Ron flinched. 

'I think Lucius Malfoy did,' said Hermione vehemently. 'He was one of the worst ones. Bigoted old…' she stopped, unable to think of anything strong enough to describe what she thought of him. 

'I agree with Harry,' said Andromeda. 'Even though I've never had an encounter with a Dementor – well, I've heard about them… about what they do… if any creature was in league with You-Know-Who it'd be them.' 

Meanwhile, a long way away, on a cold and rocky island, a cloaked man set foot inside Azkaban. His face was hidden by the hood of his robes, but he was small and hunched. Gloved hands swinging in a frighteningly cheerful manner, he passed the Dementors without a word. They did nothing. They knew why he was here. 

He came across no other free human as he passed the small stone cells, barred across like animal cages. There was not a lot of security – it wasn't needed. The Dementors made sure that no one cared about escaping. Eventually he reached his destination – a four-legged wooden stool had been placed outside one of the little rooms. He sat down calmly and removed his hood. 

The man inside the cell gasped. What was he doing here? How had he got in? 

'I have come to see you, Malfoy,' said Peter Pettigrew. 'I want you to tell me exactly what happened when you tried to enter Hogwarts.' 

'Don't know… can't remember…' said Lucius Malfoy. 'It was dark.. someone holding a candle… will you let me out of here?' 

'I'll let you out,' said Pettigrew, smiling, 'but first, tell me how they knew we were attacking.' 

'A spy… a spy for Dumbledore…' 

'A _spy_? Who?'

'I'm cold,' said Lucius Malfoy dully. 'Snape… Severus Snape. Have you got any food?' 

'Severus Snape is the spy?' 

Lucius Malfoy made a horrible groaning sound and collapsed onto the hard ground with a thud. Then he sat up again, swaying slightly. 'Yes… Snape. Will you let me out now?' 

But a pair of Dementors were sweeping towards them. Lucius Malfoy clutched his head, moaning again. 'Sorry,' said Pettigrew, shrugging. 'My time's up.' 

Lucius Malfoy struggled on the stone floor against something that only he could see. The Dementors were satisfied. They glided away from the prisoner, who suddenly lay still, grey-faced and empty-minded.


	12. Why Won't Ron Leave?

I OWN EVERYTHING IN THIS STORY! BWAHAHAHAHAHA! DEATH TO ALL DISCLAIMERS!

Ron was bored. Hermione was avoiding him, and Harry and Andromeda were as usual in a world of their own. At least they hadn't done that annoying looking-at-each-other thing for a while. It was nice for them, he supposed, but he would have liked to have his best friend back. 

Since the night of the Yule Ball Hermione had been very distant. Neither of them knew for sure who had been sending those notes, but the only possible culprits were Fred and George. Ron had decided not to give them the satisfaction of knowing that their little trick had got to him, so he was keeping quiet. But if he hadn't gone to the Ball with Hermione, they wouldn't have kissed and they would still be as close as they had been before. Closer than usual, with Harry otherwise engaged. 

He left the common room to stroll around the school. There wasn't much to do, now that Christmas and New Year were over. He almost longed for the rest of the school to return and lessons to start up – life was so _boring_. 

Wandering down the third floor corridor where a certain three-headed dog had once dwelled, Ron heard loud sounds coming from an adjoining room. Curious but apprehensive, he approached, slowly and quietly. He peered around the door. 

Draco Malfoy was standing in the centre of the room, surrounded by mess. Chairs and tables were strewn across the floor, some broken, some merely upended. As Ron watched, Malfoy brought the stool he was holding to the ground, splintering one of its legs. Ron was startled to see that the pale boy had tears in his eyes. 

Realising that this probably wasn't a situation Malfoy would want to be seen in, Ron cleared his throat loudly. Malfoy looked up, startled, then rearranged his features into an insolent glare. 'What do you want, Weasley?' 

'Um… you were making a lot of noise.' _He was probably aware of that_, thought Ron. 'Are you… OK?' 

'I'm absolutely fine. Never felt better. Now stop gawping and leave me alone before I do something I most likely won't regret.' 

'Oh, shut up,' said Ron, aggravated. 'I know about your father. This isn't going to help. Why don't you talk to somebody, you prat?' 

Malfoy looked stunned for a moment, then produced his wand. '_Effigicia_!' he shouted, and Ron felt his feet swept from under him. He landed hard on the floor. Malfoy snickered, then looked furious again. 'What is your problem? Why won't you leave?' 

'You're going to be in trouble if anyone finds out you've done this,' said Ron steadily, not getting up. 

'As though you care about that,' said Malfoy. 'You'd love it if I got in trouble.' 

'I'm not denying it,' said Ron. 

For a moment he thought Malfoy was going to smile. But then, 'Where's famous Potter and your Mudblood girlfriend, then?' 

'She isn't my _girlfriend_,' said Ron hotly. Then he blushed. 'And she isn't a Mudblood either.' He produced his own wand and cried '_Antakkitus_!' Malfoy spun rapidly around several times, then collapsed dizzily onto the fllor. It was Ron's turn to laugh. 

'Get lost now,' said Malfoy. 'I don't want to talk to you.' 

'I'm not going anywhere,' said Ron. 'For one thing, I'm having a really boring day and for another, it's quite funny watching you fall over.' 

'Shut up!' They were quiet. Then Malfoy spoke again, 'My dad was enchanted. He didn't want to work for You-Know-Who.' 

'That's what they've told you?' Ron was incredulous. 'Do you really believe that?' 

'Of course I do! My mother wouldn't lie to me! At least my father had something to do with the fight. Yours is still chatting to Muggles at the bottom of the Ministry.' 

'My father is working harder than ever,' shouted Ron, 'and yours was working for an evil wizard! Your dad's in Azkaban, Malfoy! Whose is better now?' 

Malfoy shook. 'Get out. Go away. Don't ever say anything about my dad again.' This time, Ron did. If Malfoy didn't want to be rational then it was his problem. 

An owl flew warily over the dense forest of Ralassar. It didn't want to be here, but it held an important message in its beak. It would get this job done quickly. 

Landing on the windowsill of a dirty little house, the owl rapped the pane with the side of its beak. A tall, thin, robed man got up to open it, and the owl shrank away. It dropped the letter through the opening crack and flew away as though being shot at. 

Voldemort picked up the letter and slit it open. Seeing the signature at the bottom, his eyes widened. There was news from Pettigrew! 

__

My Lord, 

After visiting Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban it has come to light that a spy is working in our midst. Severus Snape is working for Dumbledore, and made sure that the entrance he told you of would be heavily guarded at all times. This way into the castle will no longer be of any use. I suggest that you punish Snape severely. Lucius Malfoy will also no longer be useful to you. His mind has been deeply affected by Azkaban and within a few days he will be truly insane. 

Your faithful servant, 

Peter Pettigrew

Frowning, Voldemort cast a simple enchantment and, at Hogwarts, the skull and serpent on Severus Snape's forearm turned smoky black. He was being summoned. 

Snape arrived at the house little over an hour later. He knocked apprehensively on the door, wondering what was required of him now. It opened, unmanned. He entered. 

Voldemort was sitting, as usual, in the sparse front room – an opened letter lay next to him. 'I have received word from Pettigrew,' said Voldemort. 

'Oh?' 

'It seems, Severus Snape, that a spy has been working in our midst. Now who do you think it could be?' 

__

He knew. 'I – I don't know, my lord.' 

'Why, now, do you feel the need to lie to me?' Voldemort lifted his wand and said in a bored voice, '_Crucio_!' 

He watched as the spy writhed on the ground before him. Then it stopped. 'You may go.' 

Snape's mind raced wildly. What was Voldemort doing? Surely he did not intend to keep him in his service? He couldn't be letting him go?

Questioning it no further, Snape hurried for the door. Before he reached it, he heard '_Avada Kedavra!_' Of course, he heard no more. He fell lifeless to the ground. 


	13. The 'Snape Has Disappeared!' Conga Line

I killed Severus Snape because: a) his spying storyline was going nowhere and b) he's so incredibly hard to write! Sorry all you Snape fans, but I was unable to do him justice in my writing so it's better that he's gone. Anyway this is a pretty short chapter because it's really just a link. I am writing more!

To Harry's chagrin, their first lesson after Christmas was Potions. The Gryffindors arrived dismayed in the dungeon, but the Slytherins were sitting around looking puzzled. Snape was nowhere in sight. 

'I haven't seen him for ages,' Andromeda confessed, 'but he never shows up much anyway – I didn't think there was anything strange about it.' 

After half an hour several students were leaving. It was apparent that Snape wasn't going to arrive. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Andromeda retreated to the Gryffindor common room. Without double Potions they had the morning free. 

Harry was filled with dread. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd blurted out in front of Lucius Malfoy. That could have something to do with Snape's absence. Somehow, the news had got to Voldemort – Voldemort had attacked Snape, maybe killed him. It would all be Harry's fault. 

Halfway through their break, Dumbldore came through the portrait hole. 'May I have your attention?' The Gryffindor fifth-years and their Slytherin addition were silent. 'I am told that Professor Snape did not arrive for your Potions lesson. Is this correct?' They nodded. 'To avoid speculation, or perhaps to create it, I must tell you that we do not know the whereabouts of Severus Snape. As of now, Potions lessons are cancelled unless you are told otherwise. Would anyone like to ask any questions?' No one did. In fact, everyone looked quite shell-shocked. 'Right then. Harry Potter, would you come with me, please?' 

Harry, numb, followed the headmaster through the portrait hole and into the corridor outside. 'Yes, Professor?' he said dully. 'I know it's all my fault, and something terrible's probably happened, but I swear I didn't mean…' 

'I know you didn't mean it, Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'I do not want you to think that this is your fault. It is most likely that Professor Snape is being punished by Voldemort. But with or without your input, Voldemort would have found out. He has spies everywhere, many more than we do. Do not dwell on this, Harry. We are looking into it. I will tell you if there is any news.' 

Dumbledore turned to leave, and Harry walked back into the common room. He was only dimly aware of the conga line that Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender had formed around the room, singing 'Snape has disappear_ed_!'… only vaguely aware of Ron and Hermione springing up to ask what was going on… only slightly aware of Andromeda's hand on his arm, her urgent voice saying something to him… he was unable to think. 

Three days later, the news that Harry had been dreading reached his ears. It was breakfast time, and the tables were silenced to hear that Snape had been murdered by Voldemort. Dumbledore announced that he had been spying for him, that he had died to save some of the students… that there would be a memorial service held for him that evening. People cried – not just Slytherins. Professor McGonagall was dabbing at her eyes up at the staff table. Harry got up and walked from the room, gasps and sobs swimming in his ears. His vision was blurred. It was his fault. He had killed Severus Snape. 

Andromeda raced after him, of course, asking what was wrong… but he couldn't speak to her, he couldn't. There weren't words for what he had done… what he had caused. Andromeda would hate him, too, as much as he hated himself. He didn't know what to do. 

Andromeda didn't know what to do. Harry was ignoring her, acting as though she wasn't there. She followed him all the way up to the boys' dormitory in the Gryffindor common room, but he slammed the door in her face. He had never disregarded her so blatantly. There was nothing she could say. She didn't even know what the problem was. 

No one saw Harry for the rest of the day. Ron and Hermione, worried sick, noticed that he did not arrive for any lessons; Andromeda, though she didn't know about his absence, was still concerned and hurt that he wouldn't talk to her. 

Late that night, when Ron returned to the Gryffindor tower and his dormitory for bed, he saw Harry lying on his bed. His friend was staring at the ceiling and didn't even twitch when Ron called his name. 

Harry didn't sleep that night. He kept thinking of what might have happened to Snape before he died. Voldemort was cruel and merciless – it almost certainly wouldn't have been a quick death. Harry shuddered. He shut his eyes, but still, in his mind, he saw scenes so horrific he could not imagine them… still he heard the screams, the screams that only his imagination could produce. It was a long night. 

Next morning, you would have been forgiven for thinking that there was nothing the matter with Harry. He got up as normal, ate breakfast as normal, and made his way to the first lesson, Transfiguration, as normal. It was only when Professor McGonagall asked him where he had been the previous day that his friends realised there was something terribly wrong after all. 

'In bed,' said Harry rudely. 'Why?' 

Professor McGonagall looked horror-struck. 'Potter, why didn't you come to my lesson?' 

'I just told you,' said Harry, sounding bored. He scratched at the desk in front of him. 

'I will see you in detention tomorrow night, Potter,' said McGonagall. Her voice was calm but her nostrils were flared and her face unusually flushed. 'And I no longer expect such behaviour from you.' 

Hardly listening to what she said, Harry let out a long, loud yawn. McGongall drew herself up and the class flinched, having seen her assume this position before, but no angered bellow came this time and she simply exhaled. 

For much of the day Harry behaved in the same manner. He had obtained three detentions by the time the day drew to a close with a gapingly empty Potions lesson. Harry thought almost fondly back to the time when all he had to worry about was Snape's resentment of him… but then he set his face again. This way no one could find out what he had done. 

He spent the next four days being rude, insulting and downright unpleasant. He could be sure, that way of what the outcome would be – he would be punished. But somehow, every time he reported after dinner to a detention, every time he wrote a roll of parchment extra homework, he felt as though he had got out of what he really deserved. 

So it was not long before he broke down… not long before, one night, he saw the despairing face of Andromeda and wanted nothing more than to hold her again and tell her what was on his mind… not long before he acted on it, took her by the hand and embraced her, finally, desperately. He could only cling to her and weep as the full enormity of everything washed over him. And they wept together. 


	14. There Is Nothing Going On With Ron And H...

In answer to someone's query, the reason I didn't just have Dumbledore put a memory charm on Lucius Malfoy was because it would have mucked up my plotline. So there. 

It was five minutes past midnight when Harry, Andromeda, Ron and Hermione assembled in the common room. Everyone else had gone to bed. Harry, breathing shallowly, was feeling a lot better after finally turning to Andromeda, but there was still a long way to go. Guilt bore down on him like a persistent headache. Sometimes he thought it had gone away, but it only took a second of remembering why it should be there and it returned, throbbing away in his brain. He had to tell his friends about it. Only they could help him. 

'It was Lucius Malfoy who told Voldemort, I know it,' said Harry. 'I don't know how else anyone could have known.' 

'But surely they suspected someone,' said Hermione. 'I mean, Malfoy was in Azkaban. He couldn't have sent an owl or anything. Someone must have visited him, someone must have known that he knew something. It's just too big a coincidence.' 

'It's still my fault he got found out,' said Harry tiredly. 'If I hadn't blurted it out in front of Malfoy they wouldn't have known who it was. Snape would still be alive.' 

'They would have found him out eventually anyway,' Ron put in fiercely. 'It was a very dangerous job, you know… spying on You-Know-Who.' 

'But I still can't stop thinking about it!' Harry stood up, unable to put quite what he felt into words. He sat down again. 'It's always there… what might have happened to him. What Voldemort might have done… before he killed him.' 

They were silent. Andromeda put her arms around him again. Somehow that was the most comfort he could get right then. 

Andromeda received a letter the next morning. It was quite unexpected and mysterious. 

__

Dear Andromeda,, 

You will not know who I am. I have been watching you, observing you for many years, biding my time. You see, you are my nephew… but your father believed me to be dead. 

The Green family lost me when I was five years old, in circumstances I will not divulge here. I was taken in by another wizarding family, but I always thought of you, I knew that one day I would find you. 

It is important that you do not speak of me to your parents. They must not know yet. Much is at stake. 

I never went back to that family. The couple who adopted me never knew who I was. I only knew through hazy memories, and a voice I recalled dimly, calling the names of my brother and I. So Andromeda, I would like to see you, to know you truly after years of knowing no one who shared my blood. Will you meet with me? 

Send this owl back with your reply. She will know where I am. 

Andromeda looked around at the Slytherin table dully. Surely it wasn't true? Surely… after all these years of thinking everyone on her father's side was gone… she couldn't have an uncle? She remembered, dimly, her father talking about a brother he'd had, but he hadn't really known him and for Emelus Green, his brother's death had brought no grief. He barely even remembered him. Emelus had been only two when his brother had died. 

She did not send her reply straight away, causing the creamy barn owl to follow her around the castle, hooting in an annoyed fashion. The owl disrupted her lessons slightly, and she was careful to be very polite to Professor McGonagall – she was still angry about Harry's behaviour last week, and the owl's incessant hooting didn't help. 

After lessons had finished she sat down with Harry, Hermione and Ron to talk it over. Harry and Ron thought that she should say yes – they were all extremely curious. But Hermione was not so sure. 'He could be dangerous,' she said, 'and anyway, how do you know it's not You-Know-Who, trying to trap you or Harry?' 

'Voldemort?' Harry looked frightened for a second, then steeled himself again. 'It couldn't be _him_.' 

'And why not?' 

'Well… it just doesn't sound like him.' 

'Oh, it doesn't _sound _like him! That's all right then!' Hermione looked furious. 

'You lot can come with me. We can sneak a look at him before he sees me. We'll know if it's someone to be trusted or not.' And with that, Andromeda wrote a flourishing 'yes' on a sliver of parchment and sent it off with the barn owl, who shook her head with a remarkably human exasperation. 

It was late. Ron, after finishing a particularly demanding piece of Transfiguration theory, realised that Fred and George were still sitting in a corner of the room. 'Night,' he said lightly, but was immediately seized by Fred and pulled over to where the twins were sitting. 

'What's going on with you and Hermione?' Fred demanded. 

'WHAT? Who told you… nothing,' Ron said, flabbergasted. 

'Don't sound too sure to me,' snickered George. 

'Seriously. Did you get our secret admirer letters at Christmas?' 

'So it _was _you.' Ron frowned. 'What possessed you to do that?' 

'That's not the point,' George dismissed it. 'You've never ignored one of our jokes before. Are you two – you know, going out?' 

'Of course we aren't.' Ron was annoyed. 'We only ignored it because we didn't want to give you the satisfaction.' 

'Are you sure?' Fred looked sceptical. 'We've been wondering for ages. That can't be it.' 

'Yeah, Ron. You and Hermione are perfect for each other.' 

'We are not!' Ron's vehemence surprised even him. 'How many times do I have to tell you? There is nothing going on with me and Hermione.' 

'Oh, wake up, Ron!' Fred was very impatient. 'It's so obvious…' 

'I do not fancy Hermione. She does not fancy me. She was going out with Viktor Krum, anyway, and who'd want me if they had him?' 

'Well, you suddenly look very downcast for someone who doesn't even care.' 

'Oh, shut up.' 

'If you say so.' 

Ron stormed off to bed. They were wrong, of course. Him and Hermione were complete opposites. They'd be an absolute nightmare together! Wouldn't they? 

The reply from Andromeda's uncle arrived the next morning, which suggested to Andromeda that he couldn't be living far from Hogwarts. The letter read: 

__

Dear Andromeda, 

I am glad you have decided to put some trust in me. I will not let you down. But first I would like to know something about yourself. Tell me what you look like, what things you enjoy. Tell me about Hogwarts, about your friends, the lessons you like and dislike. Tell me about your teachers. Tell me about the Muggles you live with. Tell me about the Triwizard Tournament, if it is not still too painful to recall. 

I look forward to hearing from you. Take as long as you need; just tell me about yourself. We have many years to make up. 

Your uncle. 

'Why doesn't he give his name?' wondered Andromeda. 

'Maybe he's a Death Eater and he knows you'll know his name,' said Hermione darkly. Ron waved a hand impatiently at her. 

'Hermione, cheer up! There isn't a servant of Voldemort lurking around every corner, you know.' 

Andromeda didn't really know how to live up to her uncle's expectations. 'What have I ever done? Absolutely nothing.' 

But Harry was in turmoil. 'I'm glad no one's writing to me. "A while ago I told a mad Death Eater that one of my teachers was spying on Voldemort, and got an innocent man killed." That wouldn't exactly make _me _sound an ideal nephew.' His friends didn't quite know what to say. Though Harry had become less withdrawn and depressed, his anguish over Snape's death was still very apparent. 

It was the weekend, fortunately, and after completing reams of homework, Harry, Andromeda, Ron and Hermione made their way to Hogsmeade, where they entered the Three Broomsticks for a drink. Butterbeer warmed them up from the harsh January wind, and they were soon raring to go and spend their money in Honeydukes. 

Almost an hour they spent perusing the rows and rows of sumptuous and sometimes very odd sweets. Each had some money left over from Christmas, Ron with the least, Harry, whose godfather Sirius had taken some from his own vault, with the most. All of them finally selected enough sweets to fill a large paper bag, and each chose something that looked less than appetising – Harry's was a tiny box containing a single chocolate-covered wasp. 'A delicacy among the ancient wizards of Liberia,' said Hermione knowledgably. 

When they had paid for their goodies, Harry and his friends turned out of the shop into the little town square. It was quite pretty in the snowy weather, with tiny prickles of frost touching the edges of the slightly scruffy lawns and a light dusting of floury snow carpeting the little stone figures. The four friends sat on a bench, squashing in together for warmth, and began to tuck into their purchases. 

'We've got long-lost relatives coming out of the woodwork,' said Ron thoughtfully, sucking on the fin of a Sherbet Shark. 'First there was Sirius, now Andromeda's uncle. Hermione, have you got any secret siblings we should know about?' 

'Well, I always wondered who that odd girl in the photos with me was…' she replied sarcastically. 

Andromeda was in a world of her own. She couldn't stop thinking about her uncle and what to write to him. She rephrased a letter over and over in her head, but nothing sounded quite right. He had told her to take as long as she liked. It looked like she would be taking him up on that offer. 'I wonder why he doesn't want us to meet yet?' she said aloud. 'He sounded pretty urgent in that first letter.' 

'He's a Death Eater,' said Ron in a ridiculous parody of Hermione's voice. Everyone except Hermione cackled. Hermione herself frowned. 

'He could be,' she pointed out. 'I don't know, I just don't trust him. No offence, Andromeda, if he really is your uncle, but the whole thing seems very fishy. Why wouldn't he get in contact until now?' 

It was a long and circular conversation that they went over and over until it began to get dark. Being winter, this was earlier than normal, but they had been sitting outside for a long time. 'My hands have seized up,' complained Harry. 

'I know,' said Hermione. 'I can't let go of this Damson Dip.' 

With early February came almost immediate good weather. Every student and teacher was surprised at how pleasant and mild the weather was, and made the most of it by spending much time outdoors. Many afternoons were spent paddling in the lake or lounging beside it, though not many ventured firther into the waters – the sun wasn't quite hot enough just yet. 

Valentine's Day was fast approaching, and Harry wasn't sure what to get Andromeda. A couple of times he'd badgered Helena Pratt about what Andromeda had mentioned, but there had as yet been no heplful results. He was stuck. And he wondered what she was getting him, as well. 

Andromeda was just as short of ideas as Harry was. So it was a relief to see, on the eight of February, a small cart being pushed around the school by a pair of beaming Brownies. Brownies were, as their name suggested, brown, and about three feet tall. They were related to house-elves, or so the rumour went, but without all the responsibility issues. They had comically large and round ears, little pointed noses and, like house-elves, big saucer-like eyes. 

'Our speciality's 'elping people,' said the elder Brownie, Bess, to Andromeda, who had been hanging around looking curious. 'Traditionally we was Welsh wood sprites, then the Muggles started taking an interest – starting little groups involving us and the like – and it got too busy. We became travellers, sold our special goods around the country. Slowly we spread into England an' even Scotland, and now we's very widespread. Each Brownie fam'ly 'as its own trading speciality – me and Bella here're of the Lonnish clan, so we know all about Love Potions and that. Want to buy summat?' 

'Well, I don't know,' said Andromeda cautiously. 'I want to get something for my boyfriend, but I don't know what he wants…' 

Bess the Brownie was already pulling together bundles of ingredients. 'I'll do a simple spell 'ere for you, love. What's your boy's name?' 

'Harry. Harry Potter.' 

If it was possible, Bess's eyes widened. ''Arry Potter? _The _'Arry Potter?' 

'Um, yes.' 

'You've got a good one there, girl. Mind you take care of 'im!' Bess winked an enormous eyelid. 'Now, if you'll just put your hand in there – yes, like that – and think of 'Arry's face.' 

She did so, looking straight past the flower petals that formed a rather lopsided 'HP'. All of a sudden the petals began to move, taking on the shape of something else… something long and black and shiny. A broom case. Andromeda groaned. 'That's romantic,' she said, annoyed. 'A broom case? For Valentine's day?' 

'It's the gift 'e wants, love,' said Bess earnestly. 'And we 'appen to 'ave just the right one 'ere for you.' She produced, from beneath the pink-and-white silk drapings of the cart, a perfect broom case which read _Swifteager and Sons_ on the side in raised silver letters. 

Andromeda paid for the broom case wearily. 'You're sure that spell's accurate?' she asked doubtfully. 

'Very sure. It ain't failed yet.' And with a chuckle, Bess handed over the change and moved on to chat to a lost-looking second-year. 

In the Gryffindor common room Harry was looking longingly at page twenty-seven of his new _Quality Quidditch Supplies – by Owl! _catalogue. The Swifteager broom case dominated the page in its jet-black perfection. He'd love that case. But he didn't have enough money for it, as he hadn't yet bought Andromeda's present. He'd have to go down to the Brownies' stall soon, he reminded himself. 

As he approached the gaudy cart, Harry saw a familiar, gangly, red-headed figure walking rapidly away from it. Who was Ron buying gifts for? 

Ron looked apprehensively at the paper bag in his hand. It contained a thin gold bracelet adorned with a single cat charm. He didn't really know why he'd bought it. It wasn't as though he had anyone to give it to. But as he hurried away, a worrying thought struck Ron. _Hermione would love it_. 


	15. An Earthly Object

This chapter is rather surreal, as the next one will be too as they deal with only one very odd storyline. That's what happens when you combine a lack of plots with an abundance of chocolate. 

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of JK Rowling's characters, or the Perseus and Andromeda of Greek mythology. I do, however, own Andromeda Green and the story of the pendant and chain, as I made them up. 

It was very early morning. Andromeda and Harry sat by the lake in the cool sunlight, gazing across the surface at the fascinating amber ripples passing across its surface. Andromeda leaned against Harry's shoulder and he looked into her eyes, those eyes like the night with their constellations of silvery stars. Suddenly she was gone, and he was left clutching a silver chain. On the end of the chain hung a droplet-shaped deep blue pendant dotted with bright white specks. He lifted it so that it glinted in the light. A few of the tiny stars flew from the contained galaxy and stopped against the unnaturally blue sky, spelling Andromeda's name. 

Harry woke with a start and knew that he must get the chain and pendant for Andromeda. But where to start? Andromeda was a galaxy, he knew that much. So he must find out all he could about it. 

It was two minutes past seven and he left the common room, his hair still tousled and his glasses slightly askew. Harry headed for the library, where Madam Pince was setting things up. She eyd him suspiciously but he ignored her and headed straight for the Astronomy section. 

He perused stacks and stacks of books, finding many references to the galaxy that bore Andromeda's name but never a mention of a perfect, incredible chain and pendant. Then, finally, when it was close to lunchtime and many of the small tables were occupied by busy students, he came across a paragraph that told him what he wanted to know. 

__

The galaxy Andromeda was thought my ancient wizards to share its power with an earthly object, namely a silver chain and pendant. This item of jewellery was created by the Ancient Greek hero Perseus who loved Andromeda, and given to her as a gift. But the pendant was lost and the chain set forever in a block of stone, believed to dwell now beneath the lake at Hogwarts School. The pendant itself was made from blue onyx, the rarest type of precious stone, and flecked with crystal. It is thought to only be visible to one who is willing to seek out the chain and give it to someone who is worthy of his love. 

Harry looked up, panic beginning to set in. He had to have this for Andromeda, and he knew that if he was to find the chain, the pendant would make itself available to him – but how to get to it? He only had two days. Hurriedly copying down the relevant passage into a notebook, Harry headed to the Gryffindor common room. Ron was there, but there was no sign of Hermione. He rushed over to his friend. 

'Ron, I need your help,' said Harry in a hushed voice. 

'Harry, what's wrong?' Ron looked concerned. 'Where have you been all morning?' 

Rather than reply, Harry produced the notebook, opened it at the right page and gave it to Ron to read. Ron's eyes widened. 'Don't tell me you're going to try and find this,' he said flatly. 

'Don't you think I can?' 

'I'm sure you could. I can just see you getting yourself killed trying to find it.' 

'I'll be all right,' said Harry stubbornly. 'But you won't tell An, will you?' 

'Of course I won't. But how do you plan to get to the bottom of the lake?' 

'I've done it before.' 

'Oh, no!' 

But there was no point trying to argue. Harry had only needed Ron's aid in getting Gillyweed to help them, but Ron insisted on joining him beneath the water as well. 'We should find Hermione,' Ron said suddenly. 'She'll want to be included, and besides, she's bound to think of something we don't.' 

Hermione was to be found outside the Slytherin common room, chatting to Andromeda and Helena. 'Hermione, can I talk to you?' Ron demanded, levering her away by her arm. Harry stayed out of sight. He didn't want Andromeda to know they were up to something. Hermione allowed herself to be led away while Helena whooped behind her. 

'What do you want, Ron?' Hermione asked, slightly annoyed. 'Oh, hello, Harry.' 

'Harry's going to go under the lake to find an ancient locket for Andromeda and I'm going with him. Want to come?' 

Hermione frowned. 'Oh yes, that sounds like a fun day out.' 

'Come on, Hermione, we didn't want to leave you out.' 

'Oh, all right then. But you'll need a lot of equipment – we don't want you getting drowned. And I'll need to read up on this before we go down there. It's no use jumping into these things head first, you know.' And she marched off ahead of them as Ron winked at Harry. 

They decided to go under the lake the next day, which would be Sunday. Hermione was going to get the Gillyweed out of Snape's stores. Ron was about to suggest that he and Harry could create a diversion for the Potions master when he remembered and fell silent. It wouldn't be difficult to get to the store cupboard. No one was guarding it now. 

Hermione joined them with bundles of the rubbery green plant before ten o'clock on Sunday morning. 'You only had about a handful last year, Harry, didn't you?' she asked, and on his nod she went on, 'So about this much each should give us two or three hours.' She handed an enormous amount of Gillyweed to the others before separating out her own portion. 'Now, what are we waiting for?' 

They made their way down to the lake after changing into bathing things and putting their robes back over them. Though the weather was still warm, the lake was consistently freezing. Harry wasn't looking forward to stripping off and diving in. 

Standing on the edge apprehensively, Hermione eyed the water and said, 'I've read about this, you two. According to the Greek legend the stone that the chain was hidden in is roughly heart-shaped and about the size of a man's head. You can tell if it's the right one because a tiny glint of the chain can be seen sticking out. There are a lot of rocks in the lake, but from what I can figure out this should be somewhere relatively light and pleasant – it is a symbol of love, after all.' 

'How are we going to find our way around?' Ron asked doubtfully. 

'I know it a bit,' said Harry with equal quandary, but Hermione was looking confident again. 

'You can follow me,' she said. 'Harry, if you know where to look then by all means go that way, but make sure we can see you. We don't want to get separated. Otherwise, just come after me. I'm OK at navigating on land – why not underwater too?' 

On the count of three they stuffed handfuls of Gillyweed into their mouths and chewed with difficulty. Finally it all went down, and they stepped one by one into the water, having pulled off their robes and placed them on the bank. It was just like what had happened to Harry during the Triwizard tournament – they stood there for a few moments, feeling silly. Eventually all three felt the sharp pains on either side of their necks, and dived beneath the water. 

Ron and Hermione were looking around with a mixture of worry and awe, but Harry felt slightly more at home. He did a couple of somersaults, propelled by the water, which was surprisingly deep after the steep slope of the bank. Then they were off. 

The waters of the lake housed all manner of strange creatures. There were the Grindylows, a pack of which attempted to waylay Harry, Ron and Hermione. There were the merpeople, which glared at them but let them pass without interruption. But there were other things as well – enormous jellyfish like transparent balloons which could have engulfed one of the friends with a single flick of its tentacles; flat speckled fish which folded in two and blinked as they glided past; miniature people, water sprites, which pointed and cackled at Harry and his friends. They were the most unnerving; it was as though they believed the three friends to be doomed. 

Eventually they entered a wide, warm pool of light. It was a lovely place, and Harry was sorry he hadn't encountered it before. The water was so deep the surface could not be discerned, but the floor was clearly visible – yellow sand decorated with hundreds upon hundreds of rocks and pebbles. There were massive boulders, shaped roughly into seats, and at their feet sat carpets of brightly coloured tiny stones like marbles, worn shiny by the water. Colourful fish swam about, too, coming close to Harry, Ron and Hermione and winking inquisitively before swimming off in glittering shoals. 

'This is lovely,' said Hermione, and her voice was audible if bubbly. 'I could just live here, couldn't you?' She reclined happily on a long stone bench. But then, as if remembering her task, she rose slowly, moving sideways and beginning to examine rocks that looked the right size. The boys did the same. 

Harry was dismayed. There were so many; and even though only a third or a quarter were anywhere near the right size, there were still a lot of rocks to be checked. He sat lightly on the lake bed and began to pick up stones. 

After an hour, Harry was in despair. Ron, beside him, had stopped placing the unsuitable rocks neatly in a pile and begun tossing them over his shoulder, where they dropped slowly to the sandy floor. Even Hermione was looking frustrated. 

Suddenly Harry thought he saw a glint of silver. He scrabbled through the stones on the ground, moving his head to catch sight of the glitter again; and then he saw it. Protruding from an oval rock, which he could see now had a cleft in the top, like a heart shape, was a single chain link. Filled with glee and relief, he lifted it above his head and spun around. 

All at once, he felt the familiar sting at the side of his neck again. Dropping the rock and grabbing his throat, he looked, panicked, at his friends; Hermione swam speedily over and grabbed him around the waist. 'We've got to get out, Ron… get that rock…' He gasped for air, but found only water. He knew no more. 


	16. What Did Perseus Ever Do?

A second surreal episode. Be warned – if I can't think of anything to do it will get weirder! 

I need opinions. Since I am having trouble with thinking of what should happen next (though I have got an end to the year) I was thinking about doing a Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs fic. It would be rather unoriginal but I'd enjoy writing it! However I don't know what would happen in that either. So do you think I should write it now and give 'Fifth Year' a break while I think of stories, or should I continue with 'Fifth Year' nonetheless and write the MWPP fic after it finishes? REVIEW AND TELL ME!

All was dark. Harry tried to open his eyes, but no light rushed in as he had hoped – he couldn't breathe! He scrabbled for air, and found light cotton sheets covering his face. He pulled them off and found himself staring at Hermione. 

'Hermione?' he gasped. 'Did you get me out?' 

'Well, sort of,' she said shyly. 'I didn't pull you out on my own – I had do do a spell.' 

'Hermione, you saved my life.' He looked at her as this sank in. They were silent for a moment. Hermione, blushing, didn't know quite what to say. 'Where's Ron?' Harry asked suddenly. 

Hermione pointed to Harry's left. Harry turned his head to see Ron in the next bed of the hospital wing. He was out cold. 'What happened?' Harry demanded. 

'Well, after you blacked out I had to get you out – I did the Mobilicorpus spell for that, did you know it works underwater? Anyway, I went back down because Ron hadn't surfaced yet. His gills had gone too and I had to bring him back up as well. He'd nearly reached the surface on his own.' 

'Ron fainted?' Harry's heart was sinking as fast as he knew the rock must have. 'Is he all right? What happened to the rock?' 

'He's fine,' said Hermione. 'Just asleep. It's eleven at night, you know. And the rock – well…' 

She delved beneath the bed and pulled out a lump of stone, considerably smaller than it had been. She was beaming. 

'I managed to chip away some of the rock on my own, but I'm going to need a spell to get the chain out. I haven't found the right one yet, but I'll keep looking.' 

Harry was filled with panic. 'After all that – we have to get it out! I've still got to find the pendant!' 

'I'm doing my best, you know,' said Hermione, looking a bit hurt. 

'Yeah, I know. Sorry.' She nodded curtly and he felt awful. 'I really appreciate it. It's just that this is so important to me. The most important thing in the world.' 

'What's going on?' asked a sleepy voice. 'Oh, Harry! How are you?' Ron had woken up. 

'I'm fine,' replied Harry vaguely. Then, abruptly and comfortably, he went back to sleep. 

A man, tall and slender, jet-haired and clad in animal furs, stood before Harry. He held something shiny in his broad hand. Harry leant forward to take in the incredible midnight blue thing that lay there. It was the Andromeda pendant. 

'They call me a hero, you know,' said the man with a sigh. 'They might say that about you, too.' 

'No one thinks I'm a hero,' said Harry, flinching as Snape's face flew into his head. 

'Oh, but they do,' said the man. 'And they'd be right. What did I ever do?' 

'Er – I don't know.' 

'I'll give you a clue. My name's Perseus.' 

'_Oh_.' Harry's eyes widened. 'But you – you've done loads of stuff! You rescued Andromeda, for a start. And you killed the Gorgon.' 

'Exactly. I killed things. And I rescued a damsel in distress. You prevented an evil wizard from taking over the world.' 

'But I couldn't have done that on my own.' Harry was annoyed. He knew this wasn't true. 'What do you want?' 

'I want to give you this,' said Perseus, and extended his hand. Harry reached out to take the pendant. But his fingers passed straight through it. 

'You're a _ghost_?' 

'Not quite… a memory, like someone you've met before. But I won't try to kill you.' Perseus smiled and Harry grinned back. 'You won't be able to take the pendant until you release the chain. But you'll do it, and then I'll be waiting. Just remember to look after it better than I did.' Perseus gave a second self-conscious smile and disappeared. 

When Harry woke he was alone. Ron had gone from the hospital bed and it had been made neatly, with sharp corners and straight folds. He was feeling quite comfortable now, and was rather glad that he couldn't leave just yet. There were important things to be done, but they could be done tomorrow. For now he could enjoy his rest. 

Waking early the next morning, Harry realised with disappointment that he'd have to go to lessons. There was the time in between, the time before and after, and yet another gaping Potions slot, but otherwise he'd be stuck in classroom after classroom, feeling constantly as though he should be doing something more worthwhile. He decided to start straight away. 

Getting up and dressing before Madam Pomfrey could stop him, Harry collected the small amount of belongings that were arranged around the bed and rushed to the common room. No one was around yet. He seemed to be getting up very early these days. He dumped his things in the boys' dormitory, then headed for the library. He had to find out how to break open the stone. 

Almost an hour into his searching, Harry found something that looked relevant but it turned out to be for transporting heavy objects, not breaking them. He was just getting over his disappointment when the breakfast bell sounded, and he was forced to abandon the search. 

'Where have you been?' Ron and Hermione hissed at him. He waved them away, racking his brains for anything that he might have once encountered that would be of any help now. And all of a sudden, dimly and vaguely, he recalled something they'd done in Defence Against the Dark Arts with Lockhart. He smirked darkly. He'd never have thought that Lockhart would be the one to help him out. 

He struggled through morning lessons, hardly able to bear how irrelevant they seemed. Harry didn't know why this was so important to him, but he knew that he couldn't live now without releasing the chain and finding the pendant. And finally, at long, long last, the bell rang for lunchtime. He skipped the meal and went straight back to the library. 

He found it with no trouble. _Cornish pixies_, the book read, _prefer to dwell in dark, dank places such as caves, but have been known to cause trouble by settling beneath the foundations of houses or in the walls of castles. Able to survive for months without food, pixies go unnoticed for some time before they get bored of their homes and break out, creating much damage. A simple spell, if you suspect that pixies have landed in an inconvenient place, is _Dispersus Maximus_. _

The passage continued to ramble on, but Harry had all he needed. _Dispersus Maximus_. It would break any heavy object. He could have leapt for joy, turned cartwheels, whooped and laughed. But he didn't. Instead, he copied down the incantation carefully, as though it was liable to jump at him, pocketed it and repeated it in his head as he went to eat lunch. 

Ron and Hermione were already on their pudding and looked up with surprise when Harry arrived. 'What's going on?' asked Ron suspiciously. 'Have you found the pendant?' 

'Not quite,' said Harry, still smiling. 'But I've found a spell to open up the rock.' 

Hermione almost overturned her bowl of trifle in her haste to hug Harry. 'Well done!' she shrieked. 'You found it!' 

'Dispersus Maximus,' he said, with more than a hint of pride. 

'Oh, Harry, I knew you would.' Hermione beamed. Harry returned the smile. 

'So where is it? The stone?' 

'In my dormitory,' she replied. 'I'll get it as soon as I've finished eating.' 

He took great pride in reciting the two words, so small yet so significant, and watching the heavy stone splinter away like old wood. In its midst the chain dropped to the table with a satisfyingly quiet clink. He stared at it for a moment before gingerly lifting it, afraid in case its unimaginable age would cause it to break. Harry gazed in awe at the ancient, remarkable thing in his hand. Ron and Hermione watched too. All were engulfed by a kind of wary awe. After all, they didn't know a lot about what powers this chain held. 

Then he smiled widely, closed his fist around the chain and lifted it high in the air. None of them spoke. This was an achievement beyond all others; this was theirs alone. 

Afternoon lessons passed much more pleasantly; he no longer worried. Perseus would bring him the pendant tonight, he knew it – and then, the next day, it would be Valentine's Day. Never before had this day been so important to him. He would give the necklace to Andromeda. 

Harry couldn't sleep that night, he was too excited. It was like Christmas Eve had been for everyone else when they were younger; for Harry, of course, it had been like any other day. But eventually he saw the swarthy, angular face of Perseus and knew that he must have descended into dreams. 

'So, you have released the chain,' said Perseus. He was smiling. 'I am glad. A more worthy candidate for this task I have never encountered.' 

'So how do I get the pendant?' Harry asked eagerly. 

'There is no more you can choose to do. From now you must follow your instincts and your love for Andromeda. If you can trust your love enough, when you present her with this chain tomorrow, the pendant will be attached to it. If not – if you do not love her enough – then the chain will remain alone, will be encased in rock for a further hundred years.' 

'So I just give her the chain on its own?'

'That's right.' Perseus looked intently at Harry. 'I hope, young man, that you will both live up to my expectations.' And once more, the hero of another time and another world was gone. 

Harry was worried sick when he awoke the next morning. No pendant had reappeared on the chain yet. What if he wasn't the right person to take this on? What if he gave the chain to Andromeda and the beautiful pendant didn't appear? 

But then he remembered Andromeda's face, her infectious laugh, how much he loved to kiss her… of course they had enough love. He suddenly had no doubt. Pocketing the chain, he went to breakfast, feeling light-hearted and optimistic. 

The school was decorated not in the tacky, gooey way that Lockhart had initiated a couple of years ago, but in warm reds and oranges. There wasn't a trace of lurid pink. A few gold hearts flew around the walls on little wings, much like funny-shaped Snitches, but other than that the castle looked normal. 

Harry saw Andromeda at the Slytherin table, and for the first time felt a pang of regret that he had not been sorted into that house. But it passed as he saw Ron and Hermione beaming at him. He would miss them too much, if he was a Slytherin. To Andromeda, he gave the sign which meant they would meet after breakfast. 

When they finally came face to face in the bustling corridor, both were in danger of being pulled away by the crowds. They caught hands and turned into an empty corridor. Harry noticed that Andromeda was lugging something long and thin in her other hand. 

'Happy Valentine's Day,' she said quickly, handing it over. Harry grinned and unwrapped it. 'It's not the most romantic thing in the world, but I didn't know what else to get…' 

But Harry was gazing, awestruck, at the broom case before him. 'An, I've wanted this for _ages_,' he exclaimed. 'Thanks!' 

He hugged her, then felt a jolt in his stomach as he reached for the chain in the pocket of his robes. He lifted it – and felt an unfamilair weight on it. He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Andromeda. 

Her eyes widened and for a moment she didn't raise her hand to accept it. Then she seized it from Harry's hand, holding it up so that it sparkled. 'Harry, it's… it's… beautiful.' She shook her head. 'That sounds so worthless. It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen. I can't quite – Harry, where did you get this?' 

'Perseus brought me it,' he said simply, suddenly not feeling the need to tell her exactly how much he had one. 

'Oh, I love it.' Her eyes shone. 'Put it on!' 

Harry fastened the chain around her neck as she lifted her hair out of the way. The brilliant blue-black jewel fell just below her collarbone, settling against her black robes, which turned the bright white flecks in the heart of the pendant silvery grey. 

'I love you, Andromeda,' he said easily. How many times had he said it? He couldn't remember. 

'I love you too,' she said, for at least the hundredth time.


	17. Ron Hates Cramming

A shorter than usual chapter which is basically just another link. 

As February gradually changed into March, Andromeda kept up her correspondence with her mysterious uncle. He said little and would not even tell her his name. But she felt a strong bond between them, instinctively trusted him, and told him much about herself. Her uncle did not make a big thing about Harry, which she was glad about – many people did. 

Hermione had been thinking hard about something for the last few weeks. On Valentine's Day, she had received a gold charm bracelet and a cat charm. The bracelet was pretty and delicate, and looked rather expensive – but she didn't know who had bought it for her. Nevertheless, she wore it every waking moment, beneath the billowing sleeve of her robes. Try as she might, she couldn't figure out who the sender might be. She'd had a thought… but it couldn't be him. Could it?

The thirteenth of March was Andromeda's birthday and, to her delight, it fell on a Friday. She'd never had much time for superstition and liked unusual days anyway, so Friday the thirteenth would be fine where she was concerned. However, it was approaching quickly and Harry didn't know what to get. He wasn't diving into the lake again, that was for sure. 

No matter how many times he waylaid Helena and her friends, none of them could tell Harry anything that Andromeda had mentioned. She seemed to be keeping quiet about it. He discussed it with Ron and Hermione, hoping one of them would have a helpful suggestion, but they didn't and his mind remained blank. 

Another thing on everyone's mind was the O.W.L.s. They would be held in June and the frantic revision started with the return to school after the February half term. Hermione, of course, was having little trouble, though she did work extremely hard. But Harry and Ron were a different matter. 'Cramming,' groaned Ron as they pored over a Charms textbook in preparation for a mock test. 'I hate this.' 

'Don't cram,' advised Hermione, sounding infuriatingly calm. 'Plan out how you're going to revise, or you'll just panic and forget it all. Look, do you want me to draw you out a revision timetable?' 

'No, no, it's all right,' said Ron hastily as Harry snickered. 

Neville was also having a lot of trouble. He was trying to juggle revision, Herbology club (his one talent) and spending time with Ginny, who he'd been going out with since the Yule Ball. They attended Herbology club together, but squeezing Bubotuber pus and the like weren't exactly romantic. He was in despair. 

'What can I do?' he complained to Harry one History of Magic lesson, as they copied down a list of Ministers for Magic in the last eight centuries. 'I really like Ginny. I don't want her to leave me, but we don't get any time together, I'm just so busy.' 

'Maybe you could do something after Herbology. Put aside one night a week,' advised Ron, eavesdropping. 

'Like what?' 

'Go for a walk?' Harry suggested. It was something he and Andromeda loved to do. 

'That's a good idea,' said Neville, beaming. 'After Herbology, go for a walk.' He repeated it under his breath as he scribbled it onto his hand. Ron smirked and Harry elbowed him. Neville couldn't help being forgetful. 

In the ten-minute break after History of Magic, Harry was ambushed in the corridor by several girls who were all much taller than him. 'Andromeda's mentioned something you could get her,' said Helena, frogmarching him into an empty classroom. 

Holly O'Donnell placed a thin catalogue onto the desk in front of him and pointed forcefully at an item. It was a large black bag, made of a dull-looking fabric, sewn with hundreds of little white beads. 'A _bag_?' said Harry incredulously. 'Is that it?' 

'Well, she said she loved it,' said Janet Greaves. 

'It'll do – thanks, you lot – but I could have picked that myself if I'd wanted to.' Harry still couldn't believe it was so simple. 

'Fine, then,' said Helena, disgruntled. 'But don't forget, when she goes (she affected a ridiculous high voice) 'Ooooh, it's lovely!', it was us who told you.' And the Slytherin girls wandered off. 

The Gryffindors had Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins. This had once been the source of much complaining, but now Harry was very preoccupied with Andromeda and neither could keep their minds on Firefish, the leaping, steaming orange creatures that jumped in and out of the barrels of water before them. 

Ron, however, was able to think about the lesson – and about what was going on with the people around him. So it was he who noticed that Draco Malfoy was looking even more lost and self-conscious than he had lately. And it was he who, at the end of the lesson, when Malfoy went off in no particular direction, followed the pale boy. 

Malfoy kept changing route and wandering into dead ends, causing Ron to have to do some very quick jumping behind pillars. He was determined, however, to see what was wrong with the boy who was normally his worst enemy. So when Malfoy stopped in the same empty classroom that Ron had found him in before, Ron showed himself. 

'What do you want this time?' Malfoy asked fiercely. Ron said nothing. But, to his horror, tears began to seep from Malfoy's eyes, and he turned away. 'Don't look at me!' 

Ron felt just as lost at that moment as Malfoy had been looking. They hated each other. Usually, neither could resist the opportunity to have a jab at the other, to mak a snide comment or exchange venomous looks. But it was as though Malfoy was a tiny child. Ron felt the need to comfort him, but didn't know how. So he remained silent. 

'Why do you have to keep following me about?' said Malfoy desperately. 'Can't you leave me? I told oyu before! I suppose you want to gloat and laugh at me. About my dad. Well, you don't know the half of it so just…' He trailed off. 

'Has something else happened?' Ron said in what he hoped was an expressionless voice. 

'He sent us a letter,' said Malfoy hollowly. 'It didn't mean anything. My mum wouldn't let me see it. But I found it, a bit later… it was a load of jumbled up sentences and rubbish. He's mad, you know, already. I suppose you think he deserves it.' He looked expectantly at Ron. 

'Well – er – um – I can't really…' Ron stammered. 

'He was bewitched,' said Malfoy hotly. 'Against his will. He didn't really want to do all that stuff.' 

'You really believe that?' Ron blurted scornfully. Malfoy flinched, but looked furious. 

'Everyone knows it. Everyone. My mum was as well. She was – she was saved by Dumbledore. He put a spell on her, put her mind back to normal. She won't go back to them now. It's the truth. Although I suppose you wouldn't know about that. Your father's only concerned with Muggles and all that. Doesn't want to know about the important things.' 

'My father,' said Ron, trying to ignore the sudden burning in his throat as though a Firefish was lodged there, 'is working all day and all night to stop Voldemort.' He stopped resisting the anger. 'Your father, Malfoy, was a liar and a follower and an evil git. And I know you miss him, but that isn't the point. The point is, my father is working for good. Yours worked for evil. And now he's in prison. So which is the better man?' 

Malfoy lifted up one of the chairs and Ron instinctively raised his arms to shield himself. But Malfoy flung it aside and laughed without smiling. 'You think I'd throw it at you,' he said blandly. 'You think I'm as bad as him, don't you?' Ron was taken aback. 'I know you do. I see it all the time. I'm an evil, horrible little _thing_, I don't have feelings, I don't care about anyone but myself. It's true, probably. Everyone makes it that way, so I don't have much choice. Because I have to grow up to be like my dad, I have to be every bit as foul and nasty and cruel as him. That's what's expected of me, so that's what I'll be.' 

'You don't have to be, though,' Ron said quietly. 

'I do,' said Malfoy rather sadly. 'We both know it. Every Malfoy's been the same. I know what my dad was like without people telling me. He deserved everything he got. But that doesn't mean I don't miss him.' He gasped or sobbed, Ron couldn't tell. 'Always he told me how worthless I was, how only the best could possibly befall me and how I was throwing it away, letting Potter and Granger do better than me, always he drilled it into my head that Muggles and Mudbloods are _bad_-' He paused. 'And yet I can't make it. I'll never be good enough to be anything but a Malfoy, but I can't be a proper Malfoy either. I'm stuck, you see.' For a moment, he almost smiled. Then he got up decisively and headed for the door. His face was ferocious once more. 'Don't think this changes anything, Weasley. And you'd better not tell anyone either.' Malfoy – _Draco _Malfoy, Ron suddenly thought – slinked out of sight around the doorway, and Ron left a moment later. 

It was half past ten at night. Herbology club had just dispersed for the week and Neville was feeling happy as he walked in the shade of the Forbidden Forest, Ginny by his side. Neither had said anything for a while – it was easier to just enjoy the moment. But someone in the woods didn't want them to. 

Ginny had gone a few steps further when she realised that Neville was no longer by her side, She turned around, her brow furrowed with confusion. For a moment she didn't see. Then her eyes fell onto Neville, lying stiffly still on the ground. Then she took in the cloaked figure propping up Neville's shoulders, preparing to move him. She ran, terrified, for a few steps, but then something powerful, radiating heat, hit her in the back and she tumbled forwards. After a minute the cloaked figure, having vanished with Neville into the woods, returned and pulled Ginny away as well. 


	18. Andromeda's Uncle Is An Evil Wizard!

I know they're always giving each other presents. But I wrote the Valentine's Day bits before I thought of this, and in order for An to get the Trekkator from Callidus she had to have a birthday. OK? And I know Trekkator's a rubbish name, but I'm not J. K. Rowling. 

Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room with Andromeda when he saw Ron, out of the corner of his eye, dashing towards them. 'What's wrong?' he barely had time to ask before he saw Ron's pale, lost face. 

'Ginny,' said Ron hoarsely. 'She's gone. Missing. Neville too – they don't know where they are.' 

He sank to the floor and Andromeda and Harry exchanged alarmed looks. 'What – they don't know _anything?_' 

'Nothing,' said Hermione from behind them. Though she was more composed than Ron, she still looked ashen-faced and shocked. 'Dumbledore doesn't even know, they're stuck. The last time they were seen was in Herbology club.' 

Something triggered in Harry's mind. 'Herbology club…' he mused for a moment, then stood up sharply. 'I told him to go for a walk with Ginny! That must be where they went! And something happened to them…' 

'It isn't fair,' Ron said. 'Why should it always be her? She never did anything to anyone, and she's always getting into trouble. She was enchanted by You-Know-Who, taken into the Chamber of Secrets – and now she's vanished.' Angrily he tore a piece of parchment in two. 'You-Know-Who might have her, Harry.' 

Just then, before Harry could think of anything to say, Dean and Seamus entered. From the stunned looks on their faces, they had also heard the news. 

'Your sister, Ron – and Neville…' Seamus was wide-eyed. 'Do you know anything else?' 

Without a word, Ron wandered off in the direction of the boys' dormitory. They watched him go. 'I don't think he wants to talk,' said Harry flatly, and he and Hermione, without exchanging words, followed Ron up the steps. 

It was dark, somewhere at least – too dark to really see what was going on. There were shapes of light, like little ghosts, and sounds from outside – wind or animals or other things – but nothing that could be made out. Nothing familiar. 

Ginny tried to turn over but her stiff leg stopped her. The floor she lay on was hard and splintery. Neville was nearby. She could hear his shallow breathing, but couldn't see him. She wished she could. It would have been a comfort, however small, to be closer to him, to be able to hold his hand even though he wouldn't know. She was afraid. 

Every now and then, a bolt like lightning would split the black room in two – there was something happening a few metres away. Someone, the someone who had taken them, was doing a spell, or making a potion or something. Ginny could tell by the muttered unfamiliar words that occasionally reached her ears.

She remembered, though only dimly, the journey here. There was a gaping hole after she had run from the figure, but she remembered waking up in considerable pain, three feet from the ground. She had been bobbing precariously along, and had had to close her eyes to combat the feeling of sickness. They had been somewhere very cold. A forest, covered with snow, but not festive or enjoyable snow – sharply white, cruel, engulfing stuff that could kill her if she was to fall into it. Because she knew she would not be able to get up. 

Finally they had reached the little house, barely warmer inside than it had been out. A little room, bare-floored and –walled, no light of any description. Then she had been dropped to the ground, and then she had passed out again. There was no more. 

__

Ralassar. 

Harry had to clutch his head very hard to stop himself from screaming. This dream had been different – he hadn't been him, hadn't just been watching – he had been someone else. Someone he knew – Ginny. Ginny was, inexplicably, in a place called Ralassar, and someone had taken her and Neville away. He would, very soon, reach her. He couldn't leave her there. 

Harry, the next morning, didn't tell Ron about the dream. He didn't tell Hermione either, or even Andromeda. Though he knew, the way he often did, that the dream had been more than that, he didn't want to make them think he knew what to do, because he didn't. And the announcement from Dumbledore the next morning made him think even harder. 

'As you all know, two nights ago a pair of students went missing,' the headmaster began evenly. 'We have this morning received a letter telling us of their whereabouts. The letter,' he continued, his voice rising above the clamour, 'was from Lord Voldemort.' 

There were scattered screams and almost mutual gasps from the students. Most were as white-faced as Ron was. But Dumbledore, though his face was sad, kept speaking levelly. 'Voldemort has abducted Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom. He has promised that they will be returned unharmed to us if we agree to surrender Hogwarts.' The noise suddenly stopped and an almost chilling silence prevailed. 

'However,' Dumbledore went on, 'we are not going to give in to Voldemort's demands. We have been given one week to make our decision, and as I speak, the Ministry is devoting every last second to retrieving the missing students. We will not surrender.' 

He sat down. There appeared not to be much point in continuing with the morning assembly. The silence was broken almost immediately after Dumbledore finished speaking with mixed cheers and mutters, then the noise dissolved into excited and fearful chatter. 

No one, not even Andromeda herself, felt like celebrating Andromeda's birthday that day. Harry, of course, gave her the present, and she was suitably enraptured, but other than that, the only significant event was the letter that arrived that afternoon with her owl Perseus. It was from her uncle. 

__

Dear Andromeda, 

I am aware that it is your birthday today and I wish you many happy returns. I enclose a gift which may be of use. As I still cannot know you entirely, I was not sure what to get. 

This is only a short note as I wanted to send your present on the right day. But there is one more thing I would like to tell you, as a sign that the bond between us is strengthening; and that is my name. Up until now I have not entrusted you with this detail, and I am not sure why. But I feel I may as well inform you now that my name is Callidus Green. 

Endure all that may affect you in the next week. I wish you the best of luck. 

Your uncle. 

The letter was passed around Harry, Ron and Hermione in turn, and each was wide-eyed as they finished reading. But it wasn't until they had all read the letter in its entirety that they discussed it. 

'His name's _Callidus_?' Ron said. 'Why did he have to wait so long before telling you that?' 

A different issue was on Hermione's mind. 'What do you think he meant by that last bit?' she pondered. 'The best of luck… endure all that may affect you…' She suddenly gave an involuntary jerk of her head. 'You don't think he knows something about Voldemort?' 

Ron groaned loudly. 'Oh, yes, we all forgot. An's uncle's an evil wizard and he's out to get her. That's why he wished her luck, is it?' 

But Harry also had picked up on a different detail of the letter. 'What did he send you, An?' 

Andromeda produced a small package and laid it on the table in front of them. 'I haven't opened it yet.' 

'Well, go on then!' Ron said impatiently. 

She tore off the wrapping paper to reveal something that looked a bit like a watch, but much more bulky. Its strap was made from thick chunks of gold metal, and looked much too wide to be secure on Andromeda's wrist. The face was a blank bronze square, surrounded by little brass knobs like those normally found on the side of a watch. Andromeda looked at it blankly, as did Harry and Hermione, but Ron was gazing at it in silent awe. 

'That's no ordinary watch,' he said faintly. 'Andromeda, you've only been sent a Trekkator!' 

The others were looking at him, vaguely impressed. 'A what?' 

'Honestly! You lot are hopeless!' He gestured impatiently. 'You haven't heard of a Trekkator?' There were confused shakings of heads all round. 'It's a – well, a thing – it takes you anywhere you want to go. Except restricted zones, and there's hardly any of those. It's the best way to travel. Better than Floo powder, Portkey, Apparating… even better than flying car.' Harry grinned. 'I'm not sure how to use it, but there's probably a manual in there somewhere…' There was, Andromeda confirmed. 'Anyway, it takes you there in less than a second. Like a blink. Dad's had to use them a couple of times, for the Minstry. But they only usually issue them to the most advanced wizards, and even then for special jobs. An, your uncle must have had a job finding this. And it won't have come cheap either.' 

Andromeda looked at the thing in her hand. It was quite impressive. The manual, though very small, was dozens of pages thick. It wouldn't be easy to work the Trekkator, but from what Ron said, it would be worth it… 

Just then she noticed that Harry was looking extremely preoccupied. Before she could comment, however, he was getting to his feet. 'Come with me,' he said abruptly. They followed him and for ten minutes walked, seemingly aimlessly, around the castle. But then they reached an empty, bare classroom and Harry sunk down on the floor. His friends did the same. 

Without warning, he began to talk again, and they listened, growing more and more surprised, as he told them about the dream he'd had. Then Andromeda's suspicions were confirmed. 'I think we could use the Trekkator to save Ginny and Neville.' 

'Harry, how can you even think that – a week, the Ministry've got, to get them back, and we'd have to learn to use this, and even then it'd be impossibly dangerous…' 

'I think you should do it,' said Ron flatly, and Andromeda was silenced. The hidden emotion in Ron's voice was enough to make the decision for all of them.


	19. Ghost Of A Smile, Smile Of A Ghost

Parvati, Lavender, Lizzie and Grace were sitting on Lavender's bed in the Gryffindor girls' common room, chatting and minding their own business, when out of nowhere appeared a Gryffindor boy, a Slytherin girl and two others lying on stretchers in midair. 

Not surprisingly, Grace stepped back and shrieked before realising who it was. 'Harry?' she said. 'What's going on?' 

'Explain in a minute,' said Harry, breathless. 'We've got to get these two to the hospital wing.' 

He rushed down the stairs with Andromeda, both holding their wands over the unconscious Neville and Ginny. Every now and then Ginny would open her eyes, but on the whole she remained oblivious. 

They burst into the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey was leaning over a rather frightened-looking first-year, wielding something like a glass dagger. Madam Pomfrey turned around at once, and when she saw Neville and Ginny, she dropped the glass implement in shock. It shattered, but she paid no attention. 

'Are those – are those the missing students? What's going on?' she asked frantically, lifting first Neville, then Ginny onto a couple of empty beds close by. Harry didn't reply until she had finished mixing some sort of scarlet potion in a tiny jar. 

Harry explained, with some input from Andromeda, as Madam Pomfrey tilted Ginny's head back and poured the red tonic into her mouth. It took some time, and when they finished, Neville too had been dosed with the medecine and the first-year, who had begun to look relieved, was being threatened with a spare glass thing. 

'Goodness knows, we should have more safety restrictions in this school, what with You-Know-Who around again…' she murmured. Then she looked worried. 'Where are the other two? Who were the people they went with? Oh, dear, we must go and see Professor Dumbledore.' 

It was even colder in the windy air than it had been on the ground, thought Hermione, gathering her robes as tightly as she could around her, whilst gripping the back of the broomstick with her other hand. Luckily, the blonde woman was an efficient and gentle flier – Ron was hanging onto the brown-haired man's broomstick for dear life as it swerved and dipped in the grey sky. Neither knew where they were going. The three people had told them they worked for the Ministry, but they knew no more than that. 

Eventually they alighted in front of a short one-storey building in the middle of a Muggle town. Cars swept very close by, and Hermione marvelled at the lack of care they were taking not to be seen landing on broomsticks… but then she noticed what she thought at first was a kind of whirlwind-snowstorm surrounding them, and realised that this little building was concealed from the outside world. 

Hermione and Ron followed the Ministry workers inside the building, Ron looking very green. It was pleasant inside, with a roaring log fire in the corner and a few armchairs spread across the green-decorated room. A large desk was situated in front of the doorway, and it was here that the Ministry workers stopped to talk to another wizard wearing dark purple robes. Ron and Hermione went to stand by the fire and listened. 

'Who are they?' asked the wizard at the desk. He was shorter than the other man but just as broad. 'What's going on, Essa?' 

'It's a long story, Algie,' said the black woman, leaning against the desk and sighing. 'A good one though. We've recovered the missing Hogwarts kids.' 

'What? Those are them?' Algie said, with a shake of the head towards Ron and Hermione. 'Why've you brought them here?' 

'Oh, those aren't them,' said the other man. 'Harry Potter and some other girl have taken them back to Hogwarts-'

'Brian, are you telling me that you entrusted two traumatised, possibly ill kids to two other kids, and brought these two, who I still don't know, to me, why?' Algie looked despairing. 'No – don't try to make sense of that sentence. Tell me exactly what happened.' 

'We would have, if you'd stop interrupting,' said the blonde witch mutinously, but a sharp '_Kate_!' from Essa, the black woman, silenced her. Essa was apparently the other two's superior. 

'We arrived in Ralassar, and after a lot of inaccurate interpreting from Brian here, we figured out that there was a wood in the north where they're all afraid to go. No one lives up there – that they know of, anyway. We flew around a bit and eventually caught sight of a little wooden shack. Anyway, touching down, we saw those two-' another flick of the head at Ron and Hermione – 'with Harry Potter and this other black-haired girl. And there were the two missing kids on floating stretchers. They went back to Hogwarts, and we brought these two here with us.' 

'But how did they get back to Hogwarts? And how come they couldn't go with Potter and the others? And how the hell did they get them out?' 

'One: they had a Trekkator.' Algie looked gobsmacked. 'Two: because they couldn't all get back using the Trekkator. Three: I don't know any more than you do about that one. I couldn't see _him _anywhere.' 

'Ask them!' said Kate, pointing quite openly at Hermione and Ron. All four wizards headed towards them. Hermione sat down in an armchair. This was going to take some time…

Harry and Andromeda remained in the hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey hurried off to fetch Dumbledore. She returned with the headmaster in under five minutes, and it was Andromeda's turn to explain what had happened. There was nothing more to be done except wait for Ron and Hermione to return, so Dumbledore sent off an owl to the Ministry telling them the news, and asking for the immediate Floo powder journey of Ron and Hermione back to Hogwarts. Then Harry and Andromeda were told to go to bed, so they separated and returned to their respective common rooms. 

The next morning, Harry awoke to see Ron in his bed, apparently flat out. But he couldn't wait to hear what was going on. He woke his friend and they went down to the common room. Hermione was already sitting by the fire. 

They assembled and it became clear that none knew all the details of what had happened the previous night. So Harry went to get Andromeda, and when she returned, they spoke for almost half an hour, ironing out every crease in the story. 'How's Ginny?' Harry asked finally. 

'She's all right,' said Ron, sounding happier than he had for days. 'She'll have to stay in the hospital wing for a week or so, just to make sure – but Madam Pomfrey said there'd be no long-term effects.' 

And, every one feeling light and happy, they went to eat breakfast.


	20. If You'd Stop Interrupting

Parvati, Lavender, Lizzie and Grace were sitting on Lavender's bed in the Gryffindor girls' common room, chatting and minding their own business, when out of nowhere appeared a Gryffindor boy, a Slytherin girl and two others lying on stretchers in midair

Parvati, Lavender, Lizzie and Grace were sitting on Lavender's bed in the Gryffindor girls' common room, chatting and minding their own business, when out of nowhere appeared a Gryffindor boy, a Slytherin girl and two others lying on stretchers in midair. 

Not surprisingly, Grace stepped back and shrieked before realising who it was. 'Harry?' she said. 'What's going on?' 

'Explain in a minute,' said Harry, breathless. 'We've got to get these two to the hospital wing.' 

He rushed down the stairs with Andromeda, both holding their wands over the unconscious Neville and Ginny. Every now and then Ginny would open her eyes, but on the whole she remained oblivious. 

They burst into the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey was leaning over a rather frightened-looking first-year, wielding something like a glass dagger. Madam Pomfrey turned around at once, and when she saw Neville and Ginny, she dropped the glass implement in shock. It shattered, but she paid no attention. 

'Are those – are those the missing students? What's going on?' she asked frantically, lifting first Neville, then Ginny onto a couple of empty beds close by. Harry didn't reply until she had finished mixing some sort of scarlet potion in a tiny jar. 

Harry explained, with some input from Andromeda, as Madam Pomfrey tilted Ginny's head back and poured the red tonic into her mouth. It took some time, and when they finished, Neville too had been dosed with the medicine and the first-year, who had begun to look relieved, was being threatened with a spare glass thing. 

'Goodness knows, we should have more safety restrictions in this school, what with You-Know-Who around again…' she murmured. Then she looked worried. 'Where are the other two? Who were the people they went with? Oh, dear, we must go and see Professor Dumbledore.' 

It was even colder in the windy air than it had been on the ground, thought Hermione, gathering her robes as tightly as she could around her, whilst gripping the back of the broomstick with her other hand. Luckily, the blonde woman was an efficient and gentle flier – Ron was hanging onto the brown-haired man's broomstick for dear life as it swerved and dipped in the grey sky. Neither knew where they were going. The three people had told them they worked for the Ministry, but they knew no more than that. 

Eventually they alighted in front of a short one-storey building in the middle of a Muggle town. Cars swept very close by, and Hermione marvelled at the lack of care they were taking not to be seen landing on broomsticks… but then she noticed what she thought at first was a kind of whirlwind-snowstorm surrounding them, and realised that this little building was concealed from the outside world. 

Hermione and Ron followed the Ministry workers inside the building, Ron looking very green. It was pleasant inside, with a roaring log fire in the corner and a few armchairs spread across the green-decorated room. A large desk was situated in front of the doorway, and it was here that the Ministry workers stopped to talk to another wizard wearing dark purple robes. Ron and Hermione went to stand by the fire and listened. 

'Who are they?' asked the wizard at the desk. He was shorter than the other man but just as broad. 'What's going on, Essa?' 

'It's a long story, Algie,' said the black woman, leaning against the desk and sighing. 'A good one though. We've recovered the missing Hogwarts kids.' 

'What? Those are them?' Algie said, with a shake of the head towards Ron and Hermione. 'Why've you brought them here?' 

'Oh, those aren't them,' said the other man. 'Harry Potter and some other girl have taken them back to Hogwarts-'

'Brian, are you telling me that you entrusted two traumatised, possibly ill kids to two other kids, and brought these two, who I still don't know, to me, why?' Algie looked despairing. 'No – don't try to make sense of that sentence. Tell me exactly what happened.' 

'We would have, if you'd stop interrupting,' said the blonde witch mutinously, but a sharp '_Kate_!' from Essa, the black woman, silenced her. Essa was apparently the other two's superior. 

'We arrived in Ralassar, and after a lot of inaccurate interpreting from Brian here, we figured out that there was a wood in the north where they're all afraid to go. No one lives up there – that they know of, anyway. We flew around a bit and eventually caught sight of a little wooden shack. Anyway, touching down, we saw those two-' another flick of the head at Ron and Hermione – 'with Harry Potter and this other black-haired girl. And there were the two missing kids on floating stretchers. They went back to Hogwarts, and we brought these two here with us.' 

'But how did they get back to Hogwarts? And how come they couldn't go with Potter and the others? And how the hell did they get them out?' 

'One: they had a Trekkator.' Algie looked gobsmacked. 'Two: because they couldn't all get back using the Trekkator. Three: I don't know any more than you do about that one. I couldn't see _him _anywhere.' 

'Ask them!' said Kate, pointing quite openly at Hermione and Ron. All four wizards headed towards them. Hermione sat down in an armchair. This was going to take some time…

Harry and Andromeda remained in the hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey hurried off to fetch Dumbledore. She returned with the headmaster in under five minutes, and it was Andromeda's turn to explain what had happened. There was nothing more to be done except wait for Ron and Hermione to return, so Dumbledore sent off an owl to the Ministry telling them the news, and asking for the immediate Floo powder journey of Ron and Hermione back to Hogwarts. Then Harry and Andromeda were told to go to bed, so they separated and returned to their respective common rooms. 

The next morning, Harry awoke to see Ron in his bed, apparently flat out. But he couldn't wait to hear what was going on. He woke his friend and they went down to the common room. Hermione was already sitting by the fire. 

They assembled and it became clear that none knew all the details of what had happened the previous night. So Harry went to get Andromeda, and when she returned, they spoke for almost half an hour, ironing out every crease in the story. 'How's Ginny?' Harry asked finally. 

'She's all right,' said Ron, sounding happier than he had for days. 'She'll have to stay in the hospital wing for a week or so, just to make sure – but Madam Pomfrey said there'd be no long-term effects.' 

And, every one feeling light and happy, they went to eat breakfast.


	21. At Least They Don't Say 'Potter Stinks'

DISCLAIMER: Everything that doesn't belong to me belongs to JK Rowling and vice versa. 

Late April brought heavy rain, which pervaded everywhere so that even the warmest of places felt perpetually damp. The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade was one of the few places that retained some cosy heat. This was where Harry, Ron, Hermione and Andromeda were sitting with mugs of steaming Butterbeer. The pub was crowded, of course, as the rain pelted down outside, but they had arrived early and were perfectly comfortable. It was a good place to have a nice, simple chat. 

'I reckon they were Unspeakables,' said Ron for the thousandth time, on Essa, Kate and Brian. 

Hermione sighed. 'They still sound like Aurors to me,' she said. Everyone was getting very tired of hearing this argument. 'After all, we don't know what Unspeakables do, and they're hardly likely to send a bunch of them off to reveal themselves to You-Know-Who, undisguised.' 

'The Slytherins are already getting into the Quidditch spirit,' Andromeda said, changing the subject rather obviously. 'Malfoy's made a load of badges again, like with the Triwizard Tournament –' she sneaked a quick glance at Harry – 'but this time they say 'Slytherin for the Cup.' Not very original, is it?' 

'At least they don't say 'Potter Stinks',' Harry said fairly. 

The conversation moved from this to a heated debate between Harry and Ron over whether the Wronski Feint was necessary (amid many sighs from the girls), then back to Essa, Kate and Brian, then (with yet another less-than-subtle subject change from Andromeda) to their enormous Easter holidays workload (the holidays were almost over by now) and finally to Andromeda's uncle. 'I haven't heard from him lately,' she confessed. 'I'm starting to get a bit worried.' 

'When did you last write to him?' asked Hermione. 

'At least a week ago,' Andromeda replied, 'and he usually writes back within three days. I don't know, maybe he's got bored of me.' 

'How could he?' said Harry. Ron snickered and Harry blushed. 'Shut up, Ron.' 

Just then, something completely unremarkable happened, but something that caused Ron to almost hyperventilate. Hermione lifted her hand to tuck a tuft of her behind her ear. The sleeve of her robes slipped back slightly, revealing a gold bracelet with a cat charm on it. Hermione lowered her hand and straightened the sleeve of her robes, looking at Ron, who had gasped with a mouthful of Butterbeer and was now having a very loud coughing fit. 

They waited for the coughing to subside, then Harry said, 'What's wrong, Ron?' 

'Nothing,' Ron said hurriedly. He had gone red. He took another gulp of Butterbeer. 'Er, I think I might go back up to the castle – feeling a bit sick…' 

As he hurried away, aware of the others' bewildered stares, he couldn't put the bracelet out of his mind. Months ago he'd bought it and sent it, and Hermione was still wearing it. She really liked it! But she didn't know it was he who had sent it. Ron didn't know what to think. Why was he so bothered about this? He knew really – but he couldn't bear it. She had never shown any sign of thinking of him as more than a friend – except at the Yule Ball – but even then, he had kissed her first – why was this so difficult?

Back at the Three Broomsticks, conversation had turned to Andromeda's family. 'I've got two sisters and a brother,' she began, after hearing Harry and Hermione's rather short family histories. For some reason this was something they had never discussed. 'They're called Persephone, Ariadne and Jason – my dad has a fondness for mythological names, but Jason's sounds perfectly normal. It's very unfair. Anyway, Persephone's eleven – she's coming here next year – Ariadne's next, she's eight – and Jason's the youngest and is six. My parents are called Emelus and Graínne, but you know that – my mum's Irish, that's why I've got a bit of an accent, used to hearing her talk. Though it's pretty much gone now, I've been away from home for so long. I've got about a million cousins on her side, but only a couple on my dad's. I don't know much about my dad's family. His parents both died before I was born. He's got an twin brother called Erasmus. That's about it.' 

'Do you get on well with your family?' asked Hermione. 

'Usually. Jason's OK, and Ariadne. I have the most arguments with Persephone, but we're still OK. I get on great with my parents. They're very open – they treat us as equals, not as children. That's what I like most about them.' 

'You've been to Ireland, haven't you?' Harry asked, remembering a conversation they'd had before. 

'Every year before I came to Hogwarts, and a few times while I've been here. We used to go every Christmas but it got a bit too stressful travelling on Christmas Eve – my dad had to get time off work, the shop's particularly busy around that time – and we stopped a couple of years ago. I do love it there. All my cousins are there, and they're very friendly. When I was unhappy in Slytherin it was my favourite place to be. But that's changed now.' She grinned at Harry. 

When they had finished talking, Harry, Hermione and Andromeda returned to Hogwarts. It was getting late and would be dark quite soon. Ron was nowhere in sight when they arrived in the Gryffindor common room – something was bothering him, and Harry didn't know what. 

A letter arrived for Andromeda that afternoon. Perseus had to chase her around the castle before she noticed him. It was from Callidus. She read it with trepidation:

__

Dear Andromeda, 

I am sorry I haven't written for longer than usual. I hope I didn't worry you. The reason for the delay is that I was weighing something up in my mind, something I have been planning for a while. I have decided that the time has come for us to meet. If you would like to meet me, write back straight away. Suggest a meeting place if you like. 

Your uncle, 

Callidus Green

Excited, Andromeda turned the note over and wrote quickly on the back. 

__

I'd love to meet you. How about the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade?

An XXX

She was finally going to meet her uncle! Filled with apprehension, Andromeda went to find Harry to tell him the news. 

'I'm really not sure about this, An,' said Hermione. Harry rolled his eyes. 

'I think you should go,' he said firmly, 'but I'm coming with you.' 

'Good,' said Andromeda, smiling, 'because I've already told him I will.'


	22. You Might As Well Call Me Remus

I am so sorry to keep inflicting boring nothing-chapters on you. I'm trying to use up time. Things will actually happen soon, I promise. 

One early May Divination lesson, Harry and Ron were extremely glad of an interruption by Dumbledore. They were working on Tarot cards and how Muggles failed to use them properly, and as Trelawney was turning over the Death card in front of Harry for the umpteenth time, the headmaster poked his head up through the trapdoor. 

'Would it be all right for me to see Mr Potter and Mr Weasley?' he inquired. Trelawney looked put out, but permitted them to leave the lesson. As Harry walked over to the trapdoor, Trelawney hissed, 'Watch your footing, Potter… I have forseen a fall from a great height…' 

Dumbledore didn't speak immediately, so Ron said, 'Yes, Professor?' 

'I simply wanted to ask you to come to my office when you next have a break,' said Dumbledore. 'I have visitors who would like to see you.' 

'OK,' said Harry, perplexed. That seemed to be all. He and Ron returned to the heavy fumes and close heat of the Divination classroom with some reluctance. 

To their dismay, Harry and Ron didn't have a break until after double Divination and a single lesson of History of Magic – possibly the two lessons they liked least. Hermione told them that Dumbledore had asked for her to visit him, too. Both lessibs seemed to stretch for longer than ever, with the friends' curiosity as to who would want to see them – but finally, Professor Binns told them to close their copies of 'Magical Remedies of the Medieval Realms' and they rushed from the room straight to the stone gargoyle in the wall. 'Cauldron cakes,' said Harry, remembering the password from his last visit. 

They ascended – very slowly, it seemed – but were at long last facing the door of Dumbledore's office. Harry knocked, slightly too vigorously – the door swung open – and there stood Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. 

'Sirius!' Harry exclaimed, grinning. 'Professor Lupin!' Sirius's reaction was to beam warmly, hugging Harry briefly. Lupin remained standing behind Sirius, giving a small smile. 

'I'm not a Professor any more, you know, Harry,' he said. 'You might as well call me Remus.' 

'Hullo,' said Ron and Hermione, slightly uncomfortably. 

There was a silence, then Dumbledore said, 'I believe you, Harry, Ron and Hermione, have news for Sirius and Remus, and that they have things to tell you. I, however, have business to attend to, and no doubt I have heard most of what you have to say, so I'll leave you for a little while.' 

Having not seen each other for some time, none of the people present could really think of how to start the conversation. 'So, Harry,' said Sirius after a while, 'would you like to tell us what actually happened when you rescued those missing kids?'

Harry and Ron explained, rather more sensationally than was necessary, and with a few corrections from Hermione, but when they had finished, there wasn't much more to be said. 'Oh, you'll have to meet Andromeda soon,' said Harry after a pause. 'She's my girlfriend.' 

Sirius grinned, about to make a comment, but Lupin, smiling, nudged him. 'He's never grown up,' Lupin sighed with a despairing nod towards Sirius. 

'What did you have to tell us?' Ron asked, remembering what Dumbledore had said. 

'Oh, yeah,' Sirius said, looking at Lupin. 'I'll go first, shall I?' Lupin nodded. 'Well, since pretty much everyone round here knows I'm innocent now, I'm going to be living in Hogsmeade next school year. I'll still take on my Animagus form to go out, just in case, but me and Remus are going to be sharing the ex-Shrieking Shack! Oh, and there's something else happening next year that involves us – but I'll leave it to Moony to tell you that.' 

Lupin smiled rather shyly. 'Well, since I left Hogwarts I've had to learn to brew the Potion myself, without Snape around to do it for me – and since I was pretty bored over the last year or so, I experimented with some other mixtures as well. Anyway, Dumbledore got onto me to come and teach Potions at the school, after what happened to Snape…' he shook his head, an unreadable expression on his face, 'but I was a bit busy this year. Next year's a different matter, so from September I'll be your new Potions teacher.' 

Harry and Ron beamed. 'That's great!' said Harry. 'You'll do really well, I know it.' 

'Thank you, Harry,' said Lupin, unable to keep the grin off his own face. 'But that's not the only job I'm taking on. Sirius and I – we're going to be taking Defence Against the Dark Arts next year, too. I'm looking forward to returning, I can tell you that.' 

'Wow,' said Ron. 'Next year's going to be much better than this one. We've got Professor Meredith this year, filling in – apparently there was a lot of trouble finding someone who was prepared to do it, even more than usual. But she's hopeless, she rambles on and on but doesn't manage to stay on the subject.' 

'I know Elega Meredith,' said Sirius. 'She went to school with us too. She was really nosy and she never shut up. Half the rumours in school were started by her, and they weren't often true. I was seeing Lily behind James's back at one point, according to her.' He suddenly looked shocked, as though this memory of Harry's parents was painful and unexpected. It probably was, reasoned Harry. He didn't know what he'd do if he lost Ron or Hermione. 

The conversation was easier after this – they were more at ease with each other and the initial difficulty of where to start had passed over. Harry, Ron and Hermione learnt that Sirius and Lupin (it was impossible to call him Remus) had been going all over the country aiding the half of the Ministry that was really interested in stopping Voldemort. 'It's an almost impossible job,' said Lupin with a sigh, 'trying to sort things out without Fudge interfering. I don't know why he won't stand down. But then there would be the problem of trying to find another Minister…' 

'I don't know,' said Sirius. 'I reckon your dad'd be up to the job, Ron, but I don't know if he needs any more stress at the moment.' Ron flushed with pride. 

After more rather worrying discussion, during which Harry, Ron and Hermione learned the extent of the discord at the Ministry, the inevitable happened and the subject turned to Quidditch. In late May Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin, and yet again the Quidditch Cup depended on the outcome of this match. The final had been moved forward to accommodate the OWL exams – these would extend to the day the final was usually played. 'You'll beat them, Harry,' said Sirius confidently. 'You're by far the best player out of both teams.' 

'Thanks, Sirius,' said Harry, but he wished he could believe in himself as much as Sirius appeared to believe in him. Every year people told him he'd do fine, but in his first two years he had failed miserably. And he was out of practice, having only played two matches in as many years. The familiar nerves were setting in, with the match only a week away. 

It seemed as though they had been talking for only ten minutes when Dumbledore returned to his office, but a quick glance at his watch told Harry it had been an hour. They said goodbye to Sirius and Lupin, Harry very much wishing that they could stay, and went down to lunch. 

That evening, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Andromeda went down to the Quidditch field, their interest in the sport at its height with the upcoming Cup match. Harry had his Firebolt and Andromeda, a reasonable player herself, had a Flameshoot. This broom, she said, was a cheap imitation of a Firebolt, but it did for her purposes and she threw Quaffles for Harry to catch while they waited for Ron and Hermione to return with their borrowed school brooms. 

Fred and George joined them a bit later, saying that now there were six of them, they had no choice but to have a match. They obliged. Harry, Andromeda and Hermione (who was rather hopeless) played against Ron, Fred and George, who were losing miserably when the Snitch – magically slowed down by Hermione so that they wouldn't lose it – caught Ron's eye. With their three-against-three rules, anyone could catch the Snitch, so he zoomed after it, rocketing around the pitch.

But Hermione was closing in. Though she wasn't an apt flier by any means, she had a keen eye, and was close to the Snitch when it stopped and hovered by one of the goalposts. She stretched out a hand and it was just beyond her reach. Ron was zipping towards her, and suddenly, for some reason, whizzed off course. What was going on, Hermione wondered as she grabbed the little golden ball. 

Harry, Andromeda and Hermione won the match by a landslide – 210 points to ten. Ron was looking annoyed as he dismounted his broom. Hermione waylaid him as they returned to the castle. 'Why didn't you catch the Snitch?' 

'You were nearer,' said Ron, sounding shifty. 'I'm not that good, you know.' 

'You're better than me,' Hermione persisted. 'Come on, Ron, you suddenly just went in the other direction! Why?' 

'The Snitch reflected off Harry's glasses,' he said slowly. 'I thought it was over there.' 

'You knew where the Snitch was!' Hermione was exasperated. 'You let me win, didn't you?' 

But Ron was striding ahead and, if he heard, didn't show any indication of it.


	23. Triumph

I thought Angelina had left, but then I remembered that she turned 17 in the fourth book, and in Britain you turn 18 in your last year of school. So she's in her last year.

It was the morning of the Quidditch final and Harry felt as though he had been hit on the head by a Bludger. He couldn't cope with this! He was going to lose, and by a lot, presumably. Malfoy would have had a lot more practice than him, living with a wizard family. Harry was going to be humiliated. 

But the hour of the match was soon upon them and the Gryffindor team were warming up. Harry could see Ron, Hermione and Andromeda in the crowd, wearing red in honour of the occasion. They were pointing at him and turning to one another. Harry wished he could hear what they were saying. He wanted very much to be sitting up there with them, chatting excitedly about the match at hand but with no need for any kind of nerves. 

But his doubts vanished as he kicked off the ground and soared into the air, dodging the Quaffle flying close to his head… he remembered how it was to fly, knowing that your goal was in sight… it was strange. He hadn't been aware that he'd forgotten the thrill of competition. 

After what seemed a very short time, he touched down again. They had warmed up enough. The sun was obscured by a cloud, providing perfect Quidditch conditions. It was cool but not wet, bright but not glaring – with any luck, he wouldn't have trouble seeing the Snitch. 

Standing among the team as the captains shook hands, Harry looked into the stands and was able to pick out Hagrid almost immediately. He was waving entusiastically, and the people around him were ducking and looking very worried. There were other people he recognised – Ginny and her friends, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender. Even Grace and Lizzie, who usually disliked Quidditch, had turned up to cheer on their house team. Harry smiled involuntarily. 

The whistle sounded and once more, Harry rose into the air, this time close to the mass of red and green blurs. He was relieved when the rest of the players stopped, level with the goalposts, and he could soar free of them, gazing around for the Snitch. He saw Malfoy on the other side of the pitch, looking thoughtful. He saw Angelina zooming around in a line with Katie and Alicia. He saw Fred and George, coursing around the pitch, their bats raised. He saw Edward Elms, the Keeper, who didn't have much to do yet. He saw the Slytherin Chasers throwing the ball to each other, seemingly without an aim… the Slytherin Keeper and Beaters, close together. He saw the blurs of the noisy crowd and he saw the ground, formidably far below him, yawning greenly as though waiting to swallow him. He was nervous again. 

Harry's hands shook slightly as he gripped his Firebolt and sped after a flash of gold, but as often happened during Quidditch games, he had been fooled by somebody's wristwatch. The nerves were worst when he didn't have anything to concentrate on, so he flew at a leisurely pace around the field, looking in every direction. No sign of it. 

Suddenly his attention was seized by a clamour from the crowd. The wrong side of the crowd. He could hear Lee Jordan's voice bouncing around the stadium – 'Slytherin score. Ten-zero to Slytherin.' For some reason, he didn't sound too jubilant about the news. 

Harry vented his frustration with a series of jolting up-and-down movements. He exercised this annoyed sequence several more times, because the score was soon forty-zero to Slytherin. What was going on? Gryffindor weren't playing badly. It just looked like it was going to be an unlucky match for Harry's team. 

His attention was diverted by a flash of gold. It was on the other side of the pitch, though – too far away – Malfoy had seen it. Leaning forward with all his might, Harry sped towards it… but it wasn't going to work… Malfoy was too close, and Harry was metres away… they were going to lose the match, and the Cup... Malfoy stretched out his hand…. and the Snitch flitted away and out of sight. 

Harry looped the loop, feeling lighter than he had just seconds ago, and heard Lee Jordan saying, 'Looks like there's been a Snitch sighting, but no luck yet for the Gryffindor team.' 

After two more Slytherin goals, and a saved penalty to Gryffindor, the match was looking very bleak. Both teams had a large lead in the Cup, but Gryffindor needed to win by sixty points at least, and the way things were going, it might not be easy. Three more goals from Slytherin would put the margin very tight. 

And two more goals arrived. But Gryffindor got one back, and the stadium exploded into cheers. Harry grinned, even though he knew they were doing badly. 'Finally!' shouted Lee Jordan. 'Eighty-ten to Slytherin.' 

There followed fifteen uneventful minutes. Harry saw the Snitch once more, but it vanished before he could even move the Firebolt towards it. Breaking the tedious calm, Slytherin scored once more. The scores were positioned very precariously. 

A few minutes later, Harry watched sadly as the Slytherin Chasers sped towards the goalposts… Edward Elms was a reasonable Keeper, but he was no match for these three, and they were going to score. Harry knew it. And then, as if in a dream, he turned around, hand open and raised to shoulder level, and the Snitch was there. He seized it. 

Both houses were cheering. Why? Bewildered, Harry held the Snitch high as his teammates swooped upon him. Then he realised. The goal had gone in, a split second before he had caught the Snitch – the score was now one hundred and sixty to ninety. They had tied for the Cup. 

The Gryffindor team landed, still as one large mass, on the ground and looked at each other. Should they celebrate, or should they be annoyed at sharing the honour with Slytherin? Harry was the first to decide. He took off again, and performed a spectacular spinning ascent into the air, closely followed by his teammates. 

One person who didn't have a hard decision to make was Andromeda. Her inner conflict, of whether to support the house she had been Sorted into or the one to which she felt she belonged, had been instantly resolved and she was standing on her rather wobbly seat, screaming at the top of her voice. She felt completely exhilarated as she watched both teams making their parallel laps of honour.

Ron was gazing, enthralled, at the Gryffindors, choosing to ignore the Slytherins' equal triumph. He was very proud to have Harry as a best friend, and amazed at the growing gift Harry continued to show. Deep down, he wished he could be just as good at that, but it didn't stop him from celebrating along with his fellow Gryffindors. 

Hermione, grinning despite herself, was cheering between Ron and Andromeda. She wasn't cheering just for the victory; she was pleased to see the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams shooting around the pitch, side by side, moving as one. Like they were one team and not two. Maybe, just maybe, Hermione thought, the barriers between the two houses wouldn't be so sturdy after the celebrations ended. 

Harry met up with his friends straight after the match. Of course, they were all keen to congratulate him, and asked how he'd known that the Snitch was directly behind him. But even Harry didn't know the answer to that. He'd just turned around, and there it had been, waiting for him. He was glad the match had turned out the way it had. It meant that Andromeda didn't have to worry about offending the other Slytherins, and that there wasn't quite as much rivalry between the two teams. Although Harry couldn't help being glad that Slytherin hadn't won just one more point…

It was a very tired crowd of Gryffindors, and one exhausted Slytherin, that departed to their dormitories after a big party led by Fred and George. Now all they had to worry about was the exams and their entire future careers. 


	24. Meredith's Long And Irrelevant Stories

Another rather too short chapter, I'm afraid, but I had to include the exams as yet another adjoining chapter. Well, I can't go straight from event to event, can I? No one's life is that interesting, not even Harry's. As you might have figured out, this series is nearly finished. There's about three more chapters after this one, I think, so stay tuned for the conclusion! (Please?)

Harry had never known work so difficult, or so much of it at once. Every spare second was spent revising, as was each second that was not spare. Hermione was looking more stressed out than ever, but it was barely noticeable among everyone else. Harry was spending the five minutes before their first exam, Defence Against the Dark Arts, rummaging through his notes. He had decided that this was more important than combing his hair. 

At least it wasn't Transfiguration, thought Harry as he entered the room. That was probably their hardest subject, but thankfully was one of the last on the exam timetable. He still had time to make sure he knew what to do. 

'Space yourselves out,' called Professor Meredith once they had all sat in their usual seats. 'There's plenty of space. Two to a desk, now – sit at opposite ends.' Harry shared a desk with Ron and they exchanged encouraging smiles as the test papers were handed out. 

'You will be given one hour for the written test,' Professor Meredith said. 'I always think it's too long, there are only four pages… when I sat the OWLs, we only had 25 minutes, and the practical was much more difficult too…' 

Seamus Finnigan cleared his throat loudly. There wasn't time today for one of Meredith's long and irrelevant stories. 

'Oh yes. The practical exam will follow. You'll have a five-minute break to discuss – if you need to – and look through your notes, then I'll take you outside one by one for your practicals. I cannot stress enough that there is to be no talking between the first paper being handed out and the last being taken in. I will tell you when you may begin talking again. Start now.' 

The silence was annoying, thought Harry, as he filled in question one on the paper: _Give two ways to defeat a Grindylow_. The first page was easy – it covered things they'd learnt in their first three years. Page two became more difficult and Harry frowned, reading the last question – he didn't remember covering that at all. But he dutifully wrote something – guess or otherwise – in every answer space, and was finished ten minutes before he needed to be. 

The practical was somewhat more complicated. The students went one by one to face Professor Meredith in the corridor, in alphabetical order. Hermione went before Harry or Ron but did not return. Their numbers were diminishing rapidly. It seemed that Meredith was sending them away after their tests to avoid any cheating. 

By the time Harry was called Ron was looking quite green. 'If I don't come up to the common room after you, Harry, don't worry, I've just died,' he said faintly as Harry left the room. Harry himself was feeling rather frightened – after all, he didn't know what was in store. 

But the test wasn't as difficult as he'd imagined. Professor Meredith aimed three jinxes at him (without warning him first) and he blocked them all, if a bit jumpily. Then she tried a couple of hexes, both of which Harry blocked again (though he didn't mention the slight light-headed feeling he experienced just after deflecting the Hallucinatus Hex). Then a Boggart was unleashed (easy, thought Harry, shouting 'Riddikulus!') followed by a cloud of Polyclopes (tiny seven-eyed flying creatures which tickled you, making it extremely hard for you to fight them). The Polyclopes distracted Harry for a while – he had the most trouble of all with these – but then he remembered 'Dispersus Maximus' and uttered it. It worked as he had hoped, and the Polyclopes split up, falling like large specks of dust to the ground. This left him free to tackle the final obstacle – Professor Meredith performed a spell called Impluverim, which sent a very powerful jet of water spurting from the end of her wand. Harry performed the Reflecta defence, which mirrored the effect, and the water changed course, knocking Meredith off her feet. 'Well done,' she said dazedly, sitting in a puddle, before dismissing him. 

__

That was quite fun, Harry thought. _Just the sort of thing Professor Lupin would have dreamt up_. He grinned at the thought of Lupin returning next year – aided by none other than Sirius! Defence Against the Dark Arts would be even more fun than usual. But Meredith was all right really, Harry reasoned. He wouldn't have thought that exam would be the sort of thing she'd set. 

He returned to the common room, where Hermione was sitting rifling through an enormous book called _Sky Study: How to Succeed in Astronomy_. Harry's heart sank as he remembered that they had another exam that afternoon. Sinking into an armchair near Hermione, he took out his copy of _Advanced Astronomy_ and began to revise as manically as before. 

Ron returned shortly afterwards. 'That was terrible,' he moaned. 'The Jelly-Legs Jinx completely got me, I still feel like I'm walking on a trampoline – and the Polyclopes had me on the floor…' 

'Shut up, Ron!' said Hermione. 'We're revising!' 

'Oh yeah… Astronomy…' And Ron sat down beside them, producing an uncharacteristically high pile of books he thought might help. 

The next few days were much the same. The Astronomy exam was universally declared ridiculously hard, but Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures test was as usual not much of a challenge, though it was enjoyable trying to entice a Boomslang and an Ophidot, two of the most peaceful creatures in the magical world, into furious combat and then separate them. Harry's Ophidot appeared to be asleep, and the Boomslang kept wandering off. 

Divination was tedious but not too involved – they had to first draw out charts relating to the Chinese New Year and what their symbols would bring them in the coming year, then demonstrate their newly-acquired telepathy skills to Professor Trelawney. (She looked quite shocked when Harry told her she was imagining his death by decapitation, and he suspected his mark might be increased.) Transfiguration, on the other hand, was almost impossible. Worse than Astronomy, Harry decided as he poked at the ginger and white kitten he'd been given, trying in vain to turn it into a puppy. By the end its face had lengthened and its ears turned a bit floppy. The theory paper was marginally easier, and Harry managed most of the questions before retiring to the Great Hall for his lunch. It was Thursday and the exams had finally finished. 

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Andromeda took their food up to the Gryffindor common room, wanting to discuss the exams. After all, they hadn't spoken much among all the frantic revision. Andromeda had some news for them all, and produced the following letter: 

__

Dear Andromeda, 

I am writing to ask if you would like to finally meet up with me on Sunday morning in the Three Broomsticks. I will be waiting there at nine o'clock. Wear this band in your hair so that I'll know who you are. Write back if for any reason you can't make it, but otherwise don't worry about getting back to me. I'm too nervous!

Your uncle,

Callidus Green.

'I'm going,' said Andromeda firmly. 

'I'm coming with you,' said Harry, equally determined, and no one said a word to stop them. 


	25. Thomas Crowe

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling except the Greens, the Crowes and selected locations. I think, anyway. 

The Three Broomsticks was crowded as usual, and Harry sat at a small table next to Andromeda. As requested, she was wearing the vivid green hairband that her uncle had sent, and it looked nice on her shiny dark hair, Harry noticed. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, knowing she was nervous.

Andromeda was grateful that Harry was going with her. She trusted Callidus, and wanted to meet him, but it would still be an awkward and unsure first meeting and she was glad of the moral support. She leant against Harry and sipped her cherry juice. 

After about five minutes, a tall, skinny, anxious-looking man entered the Three Broomsticks, shoulders hunched. He looked around self-consciously, not wanting to let his eyes linger on anyone he didn't know. This was a man who didn't want to draw attention to himself. 

Andromeda, just in case it might be him, brushed her hair back conspicuously with her hand. The movement caught the man's eye. He took in the emerald-coloured hairband, smiled broadly and began to approach. Andromeda elbowed Harry and hissed, 'It's him!' 

'Excuse me,' said the man quietly, 'but are you by any chance Andromeda Green?' 

'That's me,' she said, grinning. 'Are you Callidus Green?' 

'Yes, I am,' said Callidus. 'And this would be Harry Potter.' 

'That's right,' said Andromeda and Harry at the same time. 'Pleased to meet you,' said Harry. 

'Likewise,' smiled Callidus, then he sat down beside Andromeda. There was an awkward silence. 'Er… did you like the hairband?' 

'It's lovely,' said Andromeda. 'Can I keep it, then?' 

'Of course you can! Can you see me wearing it?' 

Andromeda giggled, taking in her uncle's receding black hairline, speckled with grey. 'I really can't,' she admitted. 

'Well, then.' More silence. 

'We've just finished our OWLs,' offered Harry. 

'Have you really? How did you do, both of you?' 

'All right,' said Andromeda hesitantly. 

'She did much better than me,' Harry groaned. 'The only one I did well in was Defence Against the Dark Arts.' 

'Yes, it's fitting that that would be your best subject…'

'It's my best subject too,' said Andromeda into the silence that followed. 'Though I'm pretty hopeless at Divination.' This led to a much easier discussion about Professor Trelawney, who had been there when Callidus attended Hogwarts. This brought Andromeda to wonder about something else. 'You were at Hogwarts? Didn't you meet up with my father there?' 

'I did,' said Callidus, 'but neither of us knew each other. When the Green family lost me I was five years old, and my memories of Emelus were of a tiny child, not a great tall boy like he was. And he was only three. He and Erasmus could hardly remember me. I went by the name Thomas Crowe when I was at Hogwarts, for that was what my adoptive parents named me, and it wasn't until some years after I left that I discovered my true identity.'

'It must have been a shock,' said Andromeda, aware that her words were insufficient. 

'More than that, Andromeda, much more. My world was turned on its head, and I had to cling very tightly to prevent myself being flung away from it; it took years to understand that the vague memories I had were of another life entirely, and also that the family I lived with had been truly good to me but did not and could never share the bond a real family did. Or so I thought. Now I realise that the Greens could have found me, could have done more to retrieve me; but they did not.' For the first time, a hint of bitterness tarnished the low, confiding voice. 

'But they thought you were dead – how could they know?' 

'I mean nothing against your father, Andromeda,' said Callidus, 'because he was a child younger than me, and the Greens did not talk of me to him after my… disappearance. It was the elder Greens, your grandparents, that I still harbour some bitterness against, yet I mean no disrespect to your family. You must understand that I cannot quite comprehend my feelings myself. I haven't a reason for many of the things I think.' 

Andromeda made a non-committal sound, or hoped she did. 

'If you will accompany me on a walk, I will tell you what I know about the day I became cut off from the Greens.' Andromeda and Harry followed Callidus out of the Three Broomsticks and across the grass-edged paths away from the town. He recommenced his story. 

'It was a summer's day, much like this one, when my parents decided to take us on a picnic in the countryside. Outings like these we indulged in many times, as I understand. The place we stopped in was a lovely area – a grassy hill leading down to a strong and silvery river. I have since returned to this spot and cannot deny its appeal. We would eat on a blanket beneath an oak tree which was young when we visited, but is now growing rapidly and will soon be a formidable height. 

'From assumptions and information I have pieced together, we had finished our food and were playing by the river, my brothers and I. I cannot remember what happened first, but I was suddenly very cold – among swirling and rushing waters. They closed over my head and I heard screams and shouts. When I managed to surface I could no longer see my family. That I can remember. I was carried, half-drowning, a long way down the river, until I was seen by a woman fishing in the river. She dived in to rescue me. She waved a stick, or what I thought was a stick, like my mother had done sometimes, and the water around me stopped, allowing her to pull me out. I was drenched and terrified. 

'What happened after that, I cannot recall much of, but my elder sister Rowan told me what she knew. I was brought into their house by her mother, who immediately sent out owls to all the neighbouring villages telling of my situation. No one came forward. My adoptive mother suspected a family of having lost a child, from things their two younger children mentioned, but the family were severely traumatised and refused to believe that I could still be alive. To this day I cannot understand this.' 

They had reached the very edge of the town now, and before them brightly coloured fields stretched like a watercolour painting. They proceeded uphill alongside a fence. Distantly, cows could be seen dotted across the landscape, but closer by was a little wood. 'Shouldn't we head back?' said Andromeda doubtfully. 

'Not yet,' said an unfamiliar voice, and from among the trees stepped a tall, tanned, black-haired woman. 'My name is Rowan Crowe,' said the woman, 'and I have things you need to hear.' 

Andromeda stepped back and Harry grabbed her. 'There's no need to fear me,' said Rowan, smiling. 'I simply ask that you listen to what I have to tell you.'

'Rowan is my adoptive sister,' said Callidus proudly, as though unaware that this meeting was odd. 'She found out I'd been writing to you. She wanted me to bring you to her.' 

But Rowan was walking further into the woods and they followed her doubtfully. Harry was gripping his wand, though not sure why. 

'Sit,' said Rowan abruptly, gesturing at tree stumps around her. They did so. Rowan herself was seated and her blue-black robes swept the leafy ground. 

Rowan began to speak again. Callidus was still beaming inanely. 'I have long wanted to meet you,' said Rowan coolly. 'I've heard much about you from Callidus here. Callidus calls himself my brother, but his true family abandoned him, or close to it, when he was only five. You are the only Green who knows he is still alive.

'I loved him as my own brother and was deeply shocked when I discovered the truth about his parentage. I am younger than him and was only a baby when he was brought into our home. I adored him as he doted upon me. But he is weak, and could never bring himself to contact the family who left him to drown. 

'Now, Andromeda, I will truly punish that family. Did you think you could venture into the forest with a man who was shunned by your own blood, and return unharmed? Andromeda Green…' 

Before Harry or Andromeda could react, Rowan Crowe lifted her wand and cried, '_Avada Kedavra_!' Andromeda was thrown ten feet across the leafy ground and landed in a heap too far away.


	26. A Longer Summer Than Ever

Harry ran to her in ridiculous hope… her face was ashen and her eyes closed… but something was happening. The pendant of the first Andromeda, the pendant that shared almighty power with a galaxy in the sky above them, hung around her neck and all around its edges, the green light of the death spell lingered. It was growing and Harry clutched at Andromeda's hand. All at once the light vanished, or so he thought. Looking up, he heard a whoosh and saw a jet of light streak back towards the person who had cast it… 

The spell had reversed itself and Andromeda was not dead at all, Harry realised. But as he watched, the spell did not reach its target, the woman who had cast it – diving in front of her, Callidus Green caught the spell and died. 

Rowan looked up, furious, but Harry was ready and raised his wand. Thin cords sprung from it and wrapped themselves around Rowan Crowe. She lay helpless on the ground. 'Boy, how dare you?' she snarled, but Harry, as soon as he had removed Rowan's wand from her bound hand, went over to Andromeda. 

'Oh Harry… I'm not dead, am I?' 

'No,' said Harry, grinning. But then his expression changed. 'Callidus is. Your pendant – it reversed the spell and it shot back at Rowan – but Callidus jumped in the way…' 

'Oh no,' she murmured, struggling to get up. Sitting on the crackly ground, she gazed over at Rowan, lying beside her dead brother. 'Harry, go and get Dumbledore – we've got to arrest her or something. And I've got to find out…' 

Harry did as she said, though reluctantly, and Andromeda walked carefully over to Rowan. Andromeda could feel no pain. She supposed it had been shock that knocked her out. Well, there was no telling what a spell like that would do. 

Not knowing what to say, Andromeda stared at Rowan instead. 'It wasn't his fault, you know,' said Rowan uncomfortably, 'it wasn't Callidus. He was too gentle. I put the Imperius curse on him.' 

'And you're _proud_ of that?' Andromeda rose to her feet and Rowan cringed as though Andromeda was about to kick her. 'You controlled an innocent man and now he's dead, because of you. Why try to kill me? What have I ever done?' 

'Your father,' said Rowan urgently. 'I loved him… all the time we were at school I followed him around like a pathetic little fool… but he didn't love me. He loved some stupid Muggle. You can't understand, Andromeda – you can't understand why I needed to do it…'

'You tried to kill me because my dad didn't love you.' Andromeda was shaking with rage. 'And you used Callidus to get your own back, too.' 

'I found out that he was writing to you,' Rowan said desperately. 'I took my chance. I still loved Emelus, even if he had forgotten me. I wanted to hurt him. I almost succeeded. Why couldn't you die? And now I've lost Callidus too… and he loved me… and I loved him more than if he were my true relative…' 

'You stupid woman,' said Andromeda calmly, trying not to look at her uncle. 'What makes you think I'll believe you? It's your fault he's dead, not mine.' 

'But it's true, it's true!' Rowan was screaming and the woods were silent. 'I wish I'd died instead of him… I wish I'd never tried to find you…' 

'So do I,' said Andromeda, watching Harry's silhouette through the trees, and the two larger ones that walked beside him. 

*

Rowan was gone, stored in Azkaban among murderers and Death Eaters. _She was a murderer herself_, Andromeda thought. _She tried to kill me_. But the words had no meaning. Rowan was far from innocent, but she was also far from evil, and only the evil deserved Azkaban. _She was in love with my father_. What would Andromeda do for Harry's love? She didn't know. 

Callidus Green was to be buried the day after the school year ended. It was only a week away, Andromeda realised. Emelus and Erasmus Green had decided to organise the funeral after Emelus was contacted by his eldest daughter. Neither of the twins really remembered their elder brother, but they felt that they should be the ones to sort things out – to accept him back into the family. Callidus's parents, Andromeda's grandparents on her father's side, were both dead. It seemed they would never know why Callidus was ignored. 

Unsurprisingly, Andromeda was feeling a bit depressed at the end of the school year. She had just lost her uncle and someone had tried to murder her. Also, of course, she wouldn't be seeing Harry for two months. 'Not if I can help it,' whispered Ron to Hermione, showing her the two already-written letters asking Harry and Andromeda to stay at the Burrow. Hermione's own invitation was already packed in her case. It had been one of the first things she put in. 

OWL results were another thing they would all be eagerly awaiting. With Snape's absence, this year's Potions exam would take place next year instead, so they'd have to do double the amount of work to allow for the beginning of NEWTs as well. Harry thought he'd rather like to be an Auror, but he'd have to wait and see what other jobs were available. And of course, how his exam results turned out. 

The arrival of the Hogwarts Express to take them all home was a welcome sight for most of the Hogwarts pupils, but not for Harry, Ron, Hermione or Andromeda. They would all miss each other a great deal, and Harry wasn't pleased to be going back to the Dursleys'. 

The mood in their compartment was subdued. Hermione was idly plaiting Andromeda's hair and Ron was miming the same on Harry, much to their amusement, but there wasn't much conversation going on. 'Who got you that bracelet?' Harry asked to fill in the silence. 

Hermione looked down at the gold cat charm that still adorned her wrist. 'I got it on Valentine's Day,' she replied with a grin. 'I don't know who sent me it, though.' From the look on Ron's face, Harry had an idea of who it might have been. 

The train pulled in at King's Cross Station far too quickly. Harry lugged his case behind him and turned back to his friends, grinning awkwardly at Ron, submitting to Hermione's quick hug and kissing Andromeda, provoking whoops from the Weasley twins. 

'That's us done!' shouted Fred, pulling off his Hogwarts robes to reveal a T-shirt and jeans. George grinned too. 'Yeah, we'll all be a load of Percies before long.' Harry smiled in spite of himself. He would miss Fred and George at Hogwarts. 

Walking rapidly through the barrier, Harry caught sight of Mr Dursley, checking his watch pointedly. 'You're late,' said Vernon acidly. 

__

Am I? thought Harry. _It seemed like a quick journey_. 'Yes, sorry I didn't hijack it and go at two hundred miles an hour,' said Harry pleasantly. Looking back at Andromeda, who was just arriving through the barrier, he waved and tried to ignore the choking feeling he suddenly got. It would be a longer summer than ever. 

Well, that's it! There will be a 'Sixth Year' and most probably a 'Seventh Year' too, but first I must ask you all to give me some feedback. There are two things I want to know. 

1) Did you like this story? I don't just want reviews that say 'Cool' and 'Keep writing' or 'That was terrible!' and 'okay'. Those are fine during the writing, if you want to do them, but I really need to know now what was good and bad about that story. It doesn't take much. Just please tell me why you liked it or why you hated it. Who was in character? Who wasn't? Do I write OK? Which was the best chapter? The worst? Did you like Andromeda? Why or why not? I really do take these into account. And I really do need them, because I want to be an author one day. Please, just a bit of constructive criticism. I don't care if you think the whole thing's awful. Just tell me WHY. OK, I think I've made myself clear now. But you don't have to answer all of those, I don't expect you to write me an essay. Just pick one or something. One reason why it was great or why it was terrible. 

2) For my next project I am either going to write 'Sixth Year' or a Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs fic. Bear in mind that whatever I begin with, 'Sixth Year' and 'Seventh Year' will still get written, I'd just like to know which should come first. Does this series need a break, or should I go right on? The MWPP fic will deal with all seven of their years at school, but won't be as long as this one because each chapter will have a subheading e.g. 'September', 'Christmas', 'Easter'. I will only include significant events in this story. It will probably be quite difficult to write, but I've had some ideas and will write it eventually. 'Sixth Year' needs a lot more ideas. I am EVENTUALLY going to write both of these, but which should come first? You choose, 'cos I'm horribly indecisive. 


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